Civil Skirmish

S.J.A. Turney - Marius' Mules V: Hades' Gate, Victrix Books, 2013

With the previous, fourth book of the series, I declared myself disappointed that Fronto is left out of most of the action in the Rhine crossing, and not entirely content with the going ons in Rome while there's a war on we want to read about. This fifth book sees everyone's favourite legate completely out of the action of what it is to my mind another very eventful year in Gaul, yet there's no disappointment in that.

Now immersed in the scenery of the decadence in the great city of Rome, I found it entertaining to read about Fronto's adventures there, of a completely different nature than the ones in rural, barren and manifestly hostile Gaul. It was good to read about a Roman wedding, it was good to see Galba and Rufus in togas and political roles and good to get insights of Pompei in the build up of his oncoming confrontation with Caesar. I have taken a particular liking to Galba ever since the battle of Octodurus - a Roman noble not built for battle or war, but never shying away from either. He is now in the much more familiar environment of Roman politics, but his character and allegiances have stayed intact. A small role for him in the book, but essential for the reader in that it provides the link between the familiar faces of Gallic campaign and the novelty of politics of the city.

Delightful the introduction of Masgava, and I expect the character to become another personal favourite over the next couple of books. I mean, listen to the man: "There is no such thing as pain. It is a fantasy of the weak mind. Do not allow yourself that weakness and you will train yourself to ignore all pain. Be the master of your own body. If you do not, your body will master you and you will be a little more than a bloated sack of organs."

"To be prepared for any fight is mostly a matter of mental attitude rather than skill. See everything around you not for what it is, but for what it could be."

Elijah the Jew is another character I grew fond of very quickly, though I get the impression he is mostly a channel through which Simon voices the respect of his Roman heroes for the monotheistic faith.

Gaul is not forgotten, meanwhile, with Priscus taking over the role of Caesar's prime censor - and a variety of other roles, too. I am still a big fan of Fabius and Furius and their rivalry with Pullo and Vorenus is delightful. I am, however, not entirely sure their characters are thoroughly consistent. Ever since their first appearance they have been deemed untrustworthy by Fronto and pretty much everyone else that matters. After their big reveal moment everyone seems to have taken a particular liking to them and they have turned from the two most uptight centurions in the Roman army into two blokey characters that will probably soon delve onto the same path of booze and indiscipline that Fronto seems to drag everyone to. A long way off from the centurions who'd condemn a man to death for getting a practice exercise wrong. While it is possible - specially given their actions - I think it usually takes a lot longer for people to gain that sort of trust, even more so in a military environment.

Pullo and Vorenus have their big moment in this book, too, (one that I wrongly expected in MMIII), and Simon is at his best when describing it. It would have been an occasion, perhaps,to make more of the competition between them, that goes hand in hand with the camaraderie. Something along the lines of the primus pilus being killed shortly before and the two of them contending for the position - closer to Caesar's description. And it is a great sight to imagine the general watching their mad commando from the ramparts and, encouraged by it, to grow from despair to hope.

For the second invasion of Britain, Simon's approach is rather sympathetic to Cattuvelanus and the Briton tribes. We are dealing with an approach I have seen before, pertaining to Alexander's one day expedition north of the Danube: the great military power was unable to contain the indigenous threat, so they reached a compromise that history has glossed over and they left the invaders with the glory and the natives with the land. Comforting thought, but I doubt reality was ever that way.

Cotta and Sabinus' demise, however, is spot on and exactly how I always imagined it. Also, a very useful subplot that goes to show hostilities did not cease all of a sudden just because legions settled into winter quarters and most of the superior officers went back to families.

Towards the end, this fifth book drops the standard quite a bit. Simon declares the monster of Vipsul one of his great characters. I strongly disagree with it and I find the character rather useless, as is the very vivid torture scene of Balbus' chief slave. Berengarus' plight is a legitimate one and it is easy to understand his quest for revenge. But rather than making it a conversation about the morals of war and their abjection when brought into a civil environment, Simon turns everything into an 80's action movie, with gangs and thugs. The only good thing about it is the moral uncertainty we're left with: Berengarus dies without having his revenge, but is this the way it should have been?

Fronto's reconciliation with Caesar is doubtful, as well. Regardless how powerful, this is a man who endangered Fronto's family and under whose command his physical integrity is never guaranteed. And Fronto has now a lot more to lose. Seems hardly believable he'll leave a young wife and a life in the quiet countryside (where he's also protected from political intrigues) to go back to suffer, fight and endanger his life in an inhospitable and hostile land under the leadership of a man he dislikes.

However, since it's all made up, we need to suspend our belief for a little while. Because yes, the natural course for Fronto would be retirement to an idyllic, patriarchal life style. But that's not much of an action novel, is it?

I'll leave you with a quote that did not seem to fit the body of the review, but is remarkable for its phrasing and its similarity to Sun Tzu's magnificent Art of War: "There are many reasons why a battle is won. Weight of numbers can be a decisive factor, but only if all the other facets are in equal balance. Terrain is often a heavy factor and has ruined many a great commander's day. Morale can be crucial and sees off even supposed conquering armies. And surprise can swing the tide of a fight in a heartbeat."

Gnaeus Marcius. Gnaeus Marcius Rustius. Gnaeus Marcius Rustius Rufinus.

S.J.A. Turney - Praetorian: The Great Game, Mulcahy Books, 2015

Having become a big fan of Simon's Marius' Mules series, I have been privileged enough to read Praetorian: The Great Game, his latest book, before its launch yesterday.

Coming at it from halfway through the Fronto saga I expected, with reasonable variation, more of the same. And it is more of the same in some very broad aspects: historical fiction, based on historical facts and set in the Roman Empire, with the same insane level of documentation and detail, so very accurate that it is impossible to catch the author off-guard, save maybe for a few debatable turns of phrases.

But in many other regards it is a completely different type of book. And the most striking difference is that, while the adventures of Caesar's army in Gaul is a story of truly epic proportions, comprising a vast number of characters, huge armies and battles that became turning points in history, Praetorian is mostly an individual story. It is, if you want, Ulysses' Odyssey to the all-encompassing Illiad. Schindler's List vs Saving Private Ryan, if we're talking WWII movies. Or, to put it otherwise: if I'd entrust Ridley Scott to direct the MM series, then Praetorian would be best served by Martin Scorsese.

The story is set two centuries later than Fronto's, and the events in-between have greatly transformed the Roman world. If there would be such a thing as Outstanding Achievement in Historical Description Award, then Simon would be well deserving of one because, while I can't put my finger on what exactly it is that does it, there is a completely different picture of Praetorian's Rome as opposed to MM Rome. I am not versed enough in Roman history, nor traveled enough to know how different high imperial Rome would have been from late republican Rome, but this book teaches a great deal, and I have come to learn Simon's words are mostly to be believed.

It is probably unfair to speak about Praetorian exclusively in comparison terms, but it will be unavoidable, seeing that the writer has been bold enough to approach an era so brilliantly depicted in the multiple Oscar winner The Gladiator, and from an entirely different angle. The main historical characters are the same in the two (Marcus Aurelius, Commodus, Lucilla), but in the book they all are everything they are not in the movie. Now, it is a tendency of artistic enterprises to steer the public's opinion towards a simplistic classification of characters or facts in categories. We need a good guy and a bad guy for any sort of drama. So in describing Nero the emperor, for instance, one can either walk the beaten path and consider him a mindless tyrant or go against the current and find some episode or story that would put him in a good light, earning him if not redemption, at least an excuse.

Usually, however, reality is more complicated than what human mind can achieve and classifying historical figures as good or bad is actually detrimental to the science of history. All deeds are contextual, everyone is a man of their time and there is never any telling about any historical figure thought process. We can read Caesar's books, judge his facts and speculate as to his reasons, but it will always be impossible to tell how much he wanted the good of the republic or how heroic the Battle of Alesia was, for instance.

The beauty of fiction, however, is that can fill the gaps in research however the author sees fit. Ridley Scott's Marcus Aurelius is assassinated by his son, while Simon's Commodus is nothing but a loving son and rightful heir. And both can be equally right. Neither Marcus Aurelius, nor Commodus were good or bad, but they were both part of a great game, bigger even than the one Praetorian talks about.

And I was glad to see there is no talk of a decline of the Empire in Praetorian, the obsession of find the high point of Roman history, the one where decline started, being in my opinion an unhealthy one, and one that has driven historians over two millennia to place this high point anywhere between the Punic Wars and the Odoacer kingship.

Before he gets to the main stage of history, however, we find our hero, Gnaeus Marcius Rustius Rufinus, in the Pannonic forests chasing defeated Marcomanni in a scene that made me think Praetorian might well beat the body count of all the MM series. It doesn't, in the end, as the focus goes quickly away from Legio X Gemina and goes to our young hero and his adventures that - incredulous as they might seem - could just be true. Rufinus will end up a Praetorian Prefect under Caracalla, but until then we'll have to wait a few more years and a few more books. The Great Game only sees the young Rufinus through the last days of Marcus Aurelius - who he gets to meet briefly - and up to the plot against Commodus in 182 AD. It's a way of saying, sees him through, given that he is, more often than not, in the very core of the events, though always in the background and mostly in the stealth. Because our hero is very much an avant la lettre James Bond, down to a t, and this book is mostly a book of espionage.

On His Majesty's secret service, young Argentulum gets involved in plots for which the world is not enough. He gets more than a view to a kill, a licence to kill himself and gets to only live twice thanks to Pompeianus' medicus (probably a Dr. No, though not specified) who enables him to die another day and play a further part in the great game of dice royale. The metaphor of the hasta pura as a gold finger is brilliant, The hasta pura is forever, and Rufinus is the man with the silver gun in the key scene, where he lives and lets die. Oh , I could go on forever, There are even Bond girls - his only quantum of solace, perhaps? - and Senova the Briton can testify as to the Praetorian who loved her. From Rome with love, by Simon Turney, who I'd like to see denying the Bond influence on this book.

There are only a couple of other things I can say without giving too much of the plot away: if you liked Connie Nielsen's depiction of Lucilla (I loved it), be prepared for nothing of the same. Commodus' sister is, despite her brief appearances, a central character portrayed mostly in a negative space style. Her presence is always felt, but she is rarely there. Villa Hadriana, the same beautiful arrangement of rocks and gardens it has always been, provides the stage for the story and its rich description put it up second on the list of places I want to see in Rome (first place, Tajan's column, is hard to beat).

In a very Elisabethan turn of events, there's even a dog. Well, two dogs, but... you'll see. And rarely - if ever - have I seen more depth in a non-human character than here. Jungle Books and other personifications don't count.

I'm tempted to say Praetorian is a more accomplished book than Marius' Mules, but when it comes down to the small details, I find that hard to judge. Style always evolves, and the comparison might be unfair to MM, seeing that The Invasion of Gaul was Simon's first ever novel. The feeling his, with Praetorian, Simon is running against history much less. There is no detailed first hand account of the facts here like the rigid scaffolding of De Bello Gallico is for MM. And he seems to be enjoying this liberty, using each piece of hard information more like a trampoline for new subplots rather than a limitation. There are, of course, big spoilers all over the place (Marcus Aurelius will die, Commodus will become emperor), but they do not seem to be taking away any of the joy of the lecture. If anything, it is the author who gives away too much, like a director too delighted with the footage trying to fit it all in final cut.

A seemingly random scene in the book sees Praetorian Prefect Paternus meeting three senators, Publius Helvius Pertinax amongst them. I knew then we will hear more about this guy, although he does not make another appearance in The Great Game. Which only means there will be more to come. I am looking forward to Praetorian II and mostly, I am looking forward to see Rufinus through the very difficult and delicate year of the five emperors.

People familiar with Simon's works will probably need no convincing to read The Praetorian. For the rest, the book will take you down a deep rabbit hole which you'll only wish deeper. And I'm afraid Simon only writes 2-3 books a year, far too little to quench the readers' thirst, although an insanely prolific rate given the quality of the writing.

"If you hope to do any good, the first rule is that you have to survive long enough to do it." Pompeianus' tells Rufinus. Well, young man, you have at least another 35 years.

Now, regardless of how you got here, you should know this review is part of a blog tour that started yesterday, when the book was launched, with an author's introduction. It will continue tomorrow with an account about writing historical locations here. And it even has a banner. Which I think is brilliant, an am honoured to be a part of. Here:

Constable Fronto

S.J.A. Turney - Marius' Mules IV: Conspiracy of Eagles, Victrix Books, 2013

After catching my attention with the first book in the series, finding his feet and going all out with some wonderful battle scenes in the second and then rounding the story up with more of the same plus an in-depth exploration of characters and background stories in a peaking third book, I thought the fourth book drops the standard a little bit. After all, Caesar's fourth year in Gaul makes for some great reading, epic scenes and much of the world history being made: first advent of an organized Roman force North of the Rhine, first Roman military expedition to the British Isles and the year in which Trans-alpine Gaul is referred to as a Roman province in Rome. So naturally, I expected Conspiracy of Eagles to flesh all of these out. Instead of sticking to the beaten track, Simon makes some very unexpected choices.

The last book, Gallia Invicta, already saw two of everyone's favourite Romans, Lucius Vorenus and Titus Pullo, given less space than even Caesar in his concise reports thought necessary, and that was unexpected. Understandable though, as probably Simon did not want to delve into similar story lines with HBO series' Rome. But with Conspiracy of Eagles, most of my guesses about the focal points of the book have gone astray. Crossing of the Rhine, and the magnificent bridge Caesar was so proud of that he took the time to describe in detail the building process? Rather briefly dismissed by Simon, who instead takes Fronto across on a different route and would have probably made him conquer Germania all by himself, had Caesar not decided to leave quickly. Attack on the British Isles? Hmm, this was a tricky one. No character, not even Julius Caesar, the man who stood in front of Alexander's statue and measured his achievements against the great warrior's, have any sense of history or majesty, which would be the first thing in my mind. With a visible affection for his native land, Simon opts for a very tongue in cheek description of the South East coast, one that - although entirely accurate and well documented - has become the funniest cliche I've ever encountered: while in Spain the rain falls mostly on the plain, in Britain the rain falls everywhere, all the time. So much so that there are numerous words in English referring to rain that a language like Italian has an awful time translating. I remembered reading the letters of Roman legionaries in Britain at the British Museum, most of which were full of complaints about the weather and requests for warmer clothes, and that sentiment was fully echoed here.

There is some more attention paid to this first, largely unsuccessful incursion in England, but the focus is always some place else. While the battle scenes are as gripping as ever, the reader's main focus goes back to an intricate web of conspiracies, politics and personal dramas that puts Britain in the background. I expected Simon to put all the blame for the ill-planned expedition at Caesar's feet, but in hindsight it would have been all too easy.

And then finally, in the last few chapters of the book, I surrendered to the idea that this is no longer a historical novel but rather a policier set in ancient Rome. As soon as I did that, the book appeared in a very different light, and Simon proved (once again) to be as masterful a writer with criminal investigations and espionage as he is with battles and sieges. The cherry on the cake is a plot twist at the very end of the book that only left me wanting for more. Luckily, there is more and this time I will expect nothing from the fifth book. No druids, war chariots or pict archers, no masterclass in sailing from one of the few glorious chapters of triumph at sea in Roman history and no expectation from Caesar whatsoever. I have obviously grown very fond of Fabius and Furio (although I still can't really make them apart), so naturally I'd like to hear more of them. Not very sure I will though.

And then there are some big questions that lie in waiting to which probably Simon only has a sketch of an answer as of yet: what of the Civil War? Will a married Fronto be willing to carry on fighting? Moreover, will he be still supporting Caesar when he takes on Rome? What of Labienus, of which we know for sure fought for Pompei? At which point the rift between him and the general will pass the point of no return? Will death, from which Fronto has escaped so many times, finalli find him on the battlefield, or will he see off his days in the warm sun of Southern Italy? Well, there's three more years of campaigning before we get any closer to the answer.

Some web reviews of Marius' Mules seem to protest against the modern elements in the language. I have raised this point in my review of the first book. Some of it is justified (yes, to bury the hatchet is a expression gifted, together with the Americas, by the pre-Columbian natives and yes, the language does put the novels in a modern context, enabling readers of the future to easily identify the time of writing), but none of it matters for the author's enterprise. The series still stands as an amazing introduction to the Roman world and to a series of legendary figures of heroes and super-heroes who have the capes and the money, but lack the batmobiles, extraterrestrial birth or gene changing accident. I am more concerned about reintroducing the characters each time they appear in a book by their deeds and achievements in the previous books. It gives the series one of the most disturbing traits in the TV documentaries of today: the assumption that the audience are too dumb to follow a point if it's not stressed every ten minutes and that they need to be reminded about the matter at hand after each advertisement break, because they all have the attention span of a goldfish.

One historical point to address: there are a number of references to the wolf standard as symbol of the cavalry. I have raised this point to Simon and luckily he said they stem not from historical references but from personal preference. Which was fortunate for me because it spared me hours of re-reading of sources. As a Romanian, I hold the wolf standard as an important symbol and take some pride in the fact it was adopted by the Roman cavalry after the conquest of Dacia. While it is not exclusively a Dacian symbol, there is no record of its official use in the Roman army before the second century after the Empire.

And a quote I particularly liked: "It [politics] won't bother you, I suppose. You've been given a sword and pointed at a barbarian." says Fronto to the two centurions in the discussion on the beach. This resembles another favourite quote of mine, written by Antony Minghella for WP Inman, the Civil War soldier who says he's been sent to war, like countless others, with a lie and a flag. Both phrases echo a larger truth, the fact that wars are essentially useless, a horror for soldiers and civilians alike, from which a handful of political heads profit. But, gosh, there is something so terribly attractive about wearing a sword and a shield!

Title is half the story

S.J.A. Turney - Marius' Mules III: Gallia Invicta, Victrix Books, 2013

This third book of the Marius' Mules series follows the deeds of Julius Caesar and his army in the third year of his governorship in Gaul. While Fronto is still our main character, this book breaks away from the character-centered style of the first two titles and we see other notable figures in the legions getting more pages than we were used to.

Determined partially by Caesar's approach to the year's campaigning, the story follows alternatively the three army bodies the general split his legions into. Another factor in this decision is a visible change in approach from the author's part. In an attempt to make it a more complex novel, Simon expands his narrative threads thus adding a complexity to the book that  - to my mind - makes it the best in the series so far,

Everything I've been complaining about in the previous title is corrected: new ways of advancing the story are explored (such as letters or dialogue covering the action, rather than simple description), we get characters that become at least as likeable as Fronto (hails for Galba, legate of the XII and centurion Cantorix of the XIV) while everyone's favourite legate indulges in so many binge drinking episodes that they scratch the shiny image of his perfection. And, a personal favourite, we get the introspections, the looks inside characters mind. Remarkable in this regard is the story of tribune Rusca of Legio VII, introduced as a green aspiring politician with no battle experience and his transformation into a hardened soldier over a very short, but very intense period.

But the cherry on the cake is the transformation of Crassus. While hints were dropped in the previous book, it is here that Simon gives a masterclass in portraying a character. Young Crassus is still arrogant, harsh and sometimes reckless, but we get to see his redeeming features as well: he can admit to his own mistakes, he can conceive a winning strategy and motivate his soldiers to follow him into danger. Crassus ceases to be a human feature under the appearance of a human being and becomes a real person, with merits and faults. His evolution is so immense that the end of the book even catches glimpses of a bond and sympathy between him and Fronto.

The sieges, skirmishes, ambushes and full blown battles are still there and while voices might say they become routinely and boring after a while, I did not for a second thought it was the case. Not only are they so imaginative that one can only admire the huge documentation and thought process involved in creating them, but Simon also knows how to alternate these gory, grisly battle scenes with non-fighting intrigue that none of them becomes suffocating for the reader.

Another novelty, the book is framed by political intrigues in Rome, with Fronto at their very center. I am not the biggest fan of these chapters and it is my impression that Rome is best served, in fiction at least, by characters like Fronto or Maximus the gladiator who fight for its glory without ever witnessing its putrefaction. But I do understand Simon's enterprise and his attempt to understand the deeper motivations of the historical figures, beyond their military actions.

There are a lot of episodes I've fallen in love with in the same manner I was falling in love with the tales of heroic deeds in the stories of my childhood: Galba's escape from Octodurus, Cantorix's antics at Crociatonum, Atenos' calculated madness in the naval confrontation with the Venetii or Fronto's bath engagement with the two gladiators.

I do not fully understand Galronus' position and attitude for, while he is theoretically a hostage and representative of a people under very recent Roman occupation, he acts and talks entirely Roman. But I will let that pass as artistic licence. And there's another bit in which I think I disagree with the writer: while I do think that the Romans had a sense of entitlement and duty to take "civilisation" to "barbarians" in a manner not dissimilar to the USA today or the British Empire in the 19th century, I doubt the conquered people were so eager to admit the superiority and merits of Roman "civilisation". It makes in fact little sense that the very people that were fighting the Romans the year before would become trading partners over the course of a winter. Or that the Menapii would be convinced to drop their weapons, quit the fighting and return to the fields by a speech.

But Simon, just like Julius Caesar or Fronto, belongs to a people whose military might authorizes them to think of their civilisation as superior to the conquered ones. And, when I add to the mix the notorious Saxon ignorance when it comes to other cultures, I realize Simon actually does a great job where a lesser writer would be way out of his depth.

I am going to close this review by reiterating the feeling that my words do not really convey how much I've actually enjoyed the book and there's probably no potential cover quote in what I've said. But to any Roman Empire aficionado, this one's a must read. And anyway, if you've come near the MM series, you'll find it very difficult not to sink in.

Battle of Wits

S.J.A. Turney - Marius' Mules II: The Belgae, Victrix Books, 2013

For all the suspicions I started reading this series with, I am now racing through it and I am, at the time of writing, already a quarter into the third book. So what was the second all about then? Well, the Belgae. Of which we know, from Julius Caesar, they inhabit one of the three parts of Gaul, the other two being occupied by Aquitani, in the south-west, and the Gauls, all over the place. Of course, Caesar conveniently forgets about Gallia Narbonensis, which - although geographically very much a part of Gaul - was Roman territory for two generations already when he wrote De Bello Gallico.

And in the spring of 57 BC, unhappy with the last third of Caesar's famous motto Veni, Vidi, Vici, the Belgae found themselves at the heart of a revolt against the forces of Rome camped in Gaul and a little too close for comfort over the winter. These are the premises from which both Caesar's second book on Gaul and Simon's novel start. This time, however, Simon takes some bolder decisions than in the first book of the series and goes astray from the general's letter a lot more and a lot more often.

It is, undoubtedly, a much more spectacular book. The very notable siege of Bibrax, together with the events and the dialogue that frame it, is masterful writing. The difference between the previous year's campaign and this one is this time Caesar's legions are fighting an unknown opponent that is, however, very aware of their opponents' might and tactics. Almost the opposite of the confrontations with the Helvetii and Aristovius' Germans. If exploited well - and Simon does exploit it well - this historical context makes for fascinating literature. Not only does the battle of mights becomes a battle of wits a lot of the time, but the drama delves into some episodes of espionage and intelligence gathering as well, with Priscus (but not only) becoming an ad-hoc James Bond.

And of course, this is war, not a board game. Whenever one of the opponents is outsmarted, there is loss of life. In this respect one could say that the book is too gory and yes, probably the faint-hearted would best be staying away but then, what business have the faint hearted reading war novels anyway?

What I find interesting is noting how, simultaneously with displaying his impressive documentation and imaginative power when it comes to military strategy, Simon also shows the limits of his writing. His is not the deep introspective novel. Psychological conflicts and the great philosophical questions hidden under the mask of dialogue are not for him. All his characters are very uni-dimensional, almost flat. Fronto will always be a socialist, outspoken to a fault, notorious drunkard and a great military mind. An advocate for peace and a brilliant war-maker, at the same time condemning and provoking loss of life.

And for some reason Simon chose Crassus to be his villain. The young patrician is the absolute worst, all his decisions are bad and he can do no right by Simon, apparently. Although I have learned by now that this may not be exclusively for portrayal purposes, but also for some other intrigue that will be unveiled a few books ahead. Because this is another thing that happens in Marius' Mules, action threads are opened and then forgotten about, only to resurface some time later (in some cases a very long time later, as will probably happen with Paetus, the camp prefect who wants to kill Caesar, but will see his wish come true only 13 years later).

This book is part of a long saga and, as with all long sagas, we say hello to new characters and goodbye to others. I don't want to spoil any surprises, but I would advise you not to become too emotionally attached to anyone in the Tenth Legion. Or the Twelfth.

And if, like me, you have read De Bello Gallico and have been left in awe of how big Titus Labienus' contribution was to the successful conclusion of the Gallic Wars, you were wrong: it was all Fronto.

Quotes, for long winter nights:

"Rome is not a city; it is an idea. An idea that encompasses all who let it. The tribes of the Alps or the southern coast have considered themselves part of that idea for generations now and they have wine, and aqueducts and theatres and arenas and..." [...] "and most of all, they have peace."

"we need to take, but we also wish to give. Not a conquest, but a partnership."

What a Friend we have in Jesus

Philippe Auclair - CANTONA. THE REBEL WHO WOULD BE KING, Pan Books, London, 2010

It is with good reason that some readers deride sports biographies as being an inferior genre to 'proper' literature. Even sports fanatic readers. I believe it to some extent and it is right, to some extent. It would be extremely ignorant, however, not to be aware of the limitations of this fact. It would be even more ignorant to judge all the sports biographies/sports history books by the same measure. Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch immediately comes to mind to destroy all stereotypes. Yes, it is an account of following Arsenal for 20 years, thus coming under sports history genre, but it is so much more than that, with its brilliant writing, its humour and its psycho-sociological investigations to mention but a few qualities.

With a sports book it is very important to look at the context before looking at the content. First and foremost, motivation: why has it been written? Is it an attempt to provide an honest historical account, or is it solely a commercial enterprise? It is also easy enough to know. Of course books like The Secret Footballer or The Secret Diary of Mario Ballotelli are abusing the dedication and often the ignorance of the game's followers. Of course yearly catalogues, club magazines and official accounts are just PR exercises of self-aggrandisement. Likewise Wayne Rooney's My Story So Far written at the ripe age of 18 or Cristiano Ronaldo's Moments (just contemplate for a moment this thought - Cristiano Ronaldo, the writer). There's stuff like Cantona on Cantona or Rio Ferdinand's My Decade as a Red that prove that writing isn't even esential to a book - they contain next to none and are mere selections of pictures accompanied by quotes. All these make a lot of money in the process, and keep the huge football marketing beast fed.

But then, of course, there are the honest accounts, be they commercially motivated or not. Even then, they can fail miserably, when the author, former footballer, either: tries to resolve issues with his peers, takes all the writing upon himself without trusting a journalist or picks a bad journalist/writer. Easy example, Dwight Yorke's Born to Score, which checks the first two.

Sometimes, however, biographies turn out brilliantly. Although very naive in some respects and by now inadecquated, I think Duncan Edwards' Tackle Soccer This Way is a brilliant read. So is Denis Law's autobiography.

Thus, the best shots you have in picking football literature are biographies written by professional sports journalists of footballers whose careers ended at least a few years back. This is a sure-fire way to know the book is not exploiting the fame of the moment, as I'm sure there are currently enough of Messi's biographers not only to defeat Barcelona, but also to provide the public for that game. This is exactly what Phillipe Auclair's book is, but let me stress one more point before I get to it:

At the end of the day, it matters for nothing. A fan is a fan, and would buy anything. I would literally buy shit with United's crest on it, and figuratively speaking I have already. I paid double the price for a stupid collection of pictures containing Rio Ferdinand playing football just to have a copy signed by the man himself. Most of the books I mentioned above as being stupid, fake or commercial I have bought and read, in full knowledge they're either stupid, fake, commercial or a combination of these. Why? Well, too big a question for me to answer. But I will refer you back to Nick Hornby's book, he gives it a pretty damn good go.

I wanted to read Auclair's book on Cantona since it came out and it is with a feeling of guilt that I think I haven't done it so far. Did it teach me a lot, did it make me a better man, did it reveal me any secrets about the universe or the world we live in? Well, I know more about Cantona now, and I feel very content about this, although by most accounts I knew a lot more than is healthy about Cantona even before. The hell with it! What do they know? Let these naysayers go back to their world, we have football!

Strangely enough, however, I did not think it was a particularly great read. I mean... it's well written, well documented and for the most part very engaging. But to my mind, Auclair fails the most important challenge he set out on, granted, the most difficult one, too. He does not give a satisfactory explanation to what is it that makes Catona special. Obviously, Cantona is like no other footballer in a number of aspects. But why is he The King? Or The Saviour, on a par with Jesus himself in the eyes of Old Trafford faithful, and bigger than the advent of Christmas? With a mere 4 seasons played for United and no international trophy with club or country to his name, Cantona's figures are easily beaten by other players with peripheral roles in United's history. And for all the talk about the poetry of the game, inspiration and artistry, it is Cantona himself who says he talks a lot of rubbish. So we need to look elsewhere to discover the essence of Cantona's greatness, and this, I think, is what Phillipe Auclair doesn't do. He tries to explain the miracle by staying grounded, tries to prove what it only takes faith to be understood. Sounds too religious? We haven't even scratched the surface.

I like to tell people this about Cantona: 1992, Cantona is playing for Leeds, Leeds wins the title. 1993, Cantona is playing for United, United wins the title. 1995, Cantona is suspended for the second half of the season, United lose the title to Blackburn. Obviously, 1994, 1996, 1997, the other seasons Cantona spent in an United shirt, United won the title every time.

Interesting as his early life might be, and the interaction between him and the management legend that is Guy Roux is pretty interesting, these 4 years are the miracle of Cantona, and the moment he'll be remembered for, just like of Jesus' 33 years on earth, it is only the last few weeks that the Christians celebrate, completely ignoring the rest.

I didn't like how the lead to the Selhurst Park incident felt so much like a build up. Important as the kung fu kick might have been - and its importance is hugely inflated by the media, as was the punishment, it is by no means the defining moment of Cantona's United career. Hell, the press statement in the aftermath is more memorable.

Myself, I cannot reduce Cantona's time at United to less than it was. This was his defining moment, these 4 years and a half in which, with Cantona, United not only played so much better that they completed turned their fortunes around, but they set out on a path to greatness that is, at least so far, unstoppable (meanies, don't mention Moyes!). If anything, Ken Loach was closest to the truth, in Looking for Eric. "You have to trust your team mates", "My best moment was a pass", these are all part of the Cantona canon, and they set that model of imitatio Catona that United has been so successful in following.

So in Cantona's case, there is no point to go looking for the man behind the myth.



For Cantona the footballer was pure myth. And today, if it happens to accidentally meet Cantona, he is transfigured before us.

A child born on the day Cantona retired would be 17 today. But if that child would go to a Manchester United game, he's gonna sing and drink a drink to Eric the King.

"I'm so proud the fans still sing my name, but I fear tomorrow they will stop. I fear it because I love it. And everything you love, you fear you will lose." (Eric Daniel Pierre Cantona)

And quotes, because Cantona is an inexhaustible source of great quotes:

"It is better if it's not said but shown in other ways"
"And you can cry, even when you are a strong man. You can find something beautiful and simply cry because it is so beautiful. You can find emotion in the beauty of things and, to me, that's love."
"You see a lot of civil servants in football. This type of behaviour doesn't agree with me. I become bad"
"You need a lot of personality to accept putting yourself at the service of someone else. The creator doesn't exist without this tacit agreement."
"The problem is that England is very beautiful in may respects, but very ugly when it comes down to the image and to the press. It's unhealthy."(Eric Cantona)

"In football, yesterday happened a long time ago" (Billy Bremmer)

"For that money? Has he lost a leg or something?" (Brian Kidd upon news of Cantona's £1M transfer from Leeds)

"I'm so glad to meet the second most famous Frenchman in Britain" (Speaker of the House of Commons Betty Boothroyd greeting French president Jacques Chirac)

29: Justice is an instinct, not a rulebook. No rules should circumvent invention. Those who have the ability to imagine beyond the rules have a right, maybe a duty, to break them, and damn the consequences.

155: You only used your voice when you had failed to share information and feelings in a different, more profound way - instinctively, by exchanging a look, or by passing a ball.

317: Federer's astonishing exploration of his gift is a selfish enterprise, an attempt to fins the answer to this question: how far can I go? But because this adventurous impulse takes place in a public arena, it becomes almost a gift to others.

Cowboys and gays

Dallas Buyers Club (USA, 2013), Directed by Jean-Marc Valée

In the age of CGI monsters and graphic novel superhero movies, it is refreshing to see that one can still make an exceptionally good movie with a $5M budget, and be rewarded with a few Oscars for it.

Dallas Buyers club has started at the point that any movie is supposed to start: a good story. The complexity of the main character and the very peculiar string of events makes it very unlikely for such a wonderful story to be completely made up, although I'd sure as hell watch every movie of the writer that could. The fact that is based on real events, like in most cases, neither adds nor retracts anything from the merits of the movie.

To me, the outstanding aspect of this feature, is the unusual ethical complexity of the main character. We are faced with a guy who passes as pretty regular amongst his peers and a complete product of his environment. To most viewers' standards, I guess he's rather unlikeable. And the good thing is, the movie does not try to make him any more likeable. It is a great directorial ability, to tell a story entirely made of facts, leaving all judgements to the audience. And it is interesting to see how, although staying true to himself, the character of Ron Woodroof undergoes a massive transformation.

His homophobia and his exclusively pecuniary motivations are shattered and in the course of his journey we discover his humanity coming out in full bloom from deep beneath multiple layers of social prejudice. And if it was for this aspect only, the movie would still be very good. But the story touches on a much greater number of ethically grey social aspects: the prejudices linking homosexuality with AIDS in the 80s and 90s, the interests of the pharmaceutical industry confronted with the interests of their clients, regulation of food and drugs and the fairness of outcasting or outlawing the unorthodox elements that dare to think outside the box.

It is how far outside the box Ron Woodroof dares to think that drives the story forward, and his ingenuity in always finding regulation loopholes is a big part of what drives the story forward. Funny how the producers chose a Canadian director for a movie that makes the FDA look so bad, thus completely fulfilling the cliché of horrible health care in the US. It is also scary to think that American directors would actually hesitate to take on the topic.

Quite a few memorable scenes in the movie, from the one when Ron forces his homophobic fried to shake his cross-dressing homosexual partner's hand to the one that nearly brought me to tears of the old homosexual couple donating their house to a cause that started as a profit driven enterprise and became the only hope of many hopeless cases. It is the reverse journey of the pharmaceutical industry and it shows the dangers of not including an ethical element in the development of commercial products.

I'm not entirely sure if Matthew McConaughey's performance is exceptionally good, or if it's just the weight loss and the make-up. He's rather hard to recognize, if that's any worth. And his posture and accent place him right in the heart of Texas, just like the character he's embodying, although this might actually be the merit of the casting director. I am sure he deserved his Oscar ahead of Christian Bale's American Hustle, although I'm curious to see what Bale would have made of this part.

I'm not a big fan of Jennifer Garner and this movie doesn't help her cause. She's good, granted, but she benefits from an exceptionally well written part.

Jared Leto is, I think, the revelation of the movie. I thought everything we feel for the character is entirely down to his acting. And by no means I would have expected this from him, the pretty boy with a pop star image playing Alexander the Great's sexual partner.

Griffin Dunne's Dr. Vass is a very interesting part and I would have loved to see it developed a bit more, especially in terms of motivation and awareness of own impact.

So that's my take on a movie I felt a strong urge to write about, most likely because of its ethical implications. Great story, great writing, great directing and quite possibly Matthew McCounaughey's best role so far. And despite his best effort in both, this movie is so much better than Interstellar it defies comparison. Possibly because it doesn't rely on expensive CGI. And it's 2D.