Gibboniana
"Edward Gibbon's The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." Thus would I answer if asked to name my favorite book. I first encountered Gibbon's work about fifteen years ago when I read the excellent one volume abridgment by David Womersley. I loved it so much that I then read the entire thing in Womersley's equally excellent three-volume edition. Of the many editions out there, Womersley's is the one you want. His 100+ page introduction and his indices (which are more like mini-biographies) of the people, both ancient and modern, that Gibbon mentions are invaluable tools for understanding and enjoying this historiographical masterpiece.
I am now rereading the entire thing and keeping a notebook of passages I find particularly incisive, witty, well-written. Gibbon excels as a prose stylist; indeed he is now known, if known at all, for his language rather than his historical acumen. But this judgment is incomplete, for anyone who has read Gibbon soon discovers that he displays real insight into human motivation and character, and those two things must count for something in a historian. It is one of Womersley's finest achievements that his introduction conveys a deeper and more balanced understanding of Gibbon's artistic and intellectual accomplishments.
As for Gibbon's style: there are, for my money, two areas in which he is unsurpassed: his use of adjectives and his remarkable facility with adverbs--those things that lesser writers are urged to limit or avoid. In Gibbon's hands, these modifiers accomplish the work of entire sentences.
In any event, here are some passages I have noted:
"...the great art of submitting his own passions, as well as those of others, to the interest of his ambition, and of colouring his ambition with the most specious pretences of justice and public utility." (On Diocletian, ch. 13)
"...for whose wisdom & integrity Commodus still entertained a reluctant esteem." (Ch. 4)
Comment: the word "reluctant" conveys the meaning of an entire clause.
"The labour of an attentive education had never been able to infuse into his rude and brutish mind the least tincture of learning." (Ch. 4)
"...who remembered or regretted the luxurious prodigality of Commodus." (Ch. 4)
"...his daring ambition, which was never diverted from its steady course by the allurements of pleasure, the apprehension of danger, or the feelings of humanity." (Ch. 5, on Septimius Severus)
..."he expatiated on the common topics of moderation and humanity, which are so familiar to the eloquence of the vanquished." (Ch. 14, on Licinius, in his conflict with Constantine)
Who could read such sentences and not be entertained and enlightened?
Gibboniana
"Edward Gibbon's The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." Thus would I answer if asked to name my favorite book. I first encountered Gibbon's work about fifteen years ago when I read the excellent one volume abridgment by David Womersley. I loved it so much that I then read the entire thing in Womersley's equally excellent three-volume edition. Of the many editions out there, Womersley's is the one you want. His 100+ page introduction and his indices (which are more like mini-biographies) of the people, both ancient and modern, that Gibbon mentions are invaluable tools for understanding and enjoying this historiographical masterpiece.
I am now rereading the entire thing and keeping a notebook of passages I find particularly incisive, witty, well-written. Gibbon excels as a prose stylist; indeed he is now known, if known at all, for his language rather than his historical acumen. But this judgment is incomplete, for anyone who has read Gibbon soon discovers that he displays real insight into human motivation and character, and those two things must count for something in a historian. It is one of Womersley's finest achievements that his introduction conveys a deeper and more balanced understanding of Gibbon's artistic and intellectual accomplishments.
As for Gibbon's style: there are, for my money, two areas in which he is unsurpassed: his use of adjectives and his remarkable facility with adverbs--those things that lesser writers are urged to limit or avoid. In Gibbon's hands, these modifiers accomplish the work of entire sentences.
In any event, here are some passages I have noted:
"...the great art of submitting his own passions, as well as those of others, to the interest of his ambition, and of colouring his ambition with the most specious pretences of justice and public utility." (On Diocletian, ch. 13)
"...for whose wisdom & integrity Commodus still entertained a reluctant esteem." (Ch. 4)
Comment: the word "reluctant" conveys the meaning of an entire clause.
"The labour of an attentive education had never been able to infuse into his rude and brutish mind the least tincture of learning." (Ch. 4)
"...who remembered or regretted the luxurious prodigality of Commodus." (Ch. 4)
"...his daring ambition, which was never diverted from its steady course by the allurements of pleasure, the apprehension of danger, or the feelings of humanity." (Ch. 5, on Septimius Severus)
..."he expatiated on the common topics of moderation and humanity, which are so familiar to the eloquence of the vanquished." (Ch. 14, on Licinius, in his conflict with Constantine)
Who could read such sentences and not be entertained and enlightened?
No comments:
Post a Comment