This is the first book in the seven book Masters of Rome series dealing with the last century of the Roman Republic, from 110 to 30 BC. At the start of The First Man in Rome we meet Gaius Julius Caesar--the grandfather of his namesake the famous general. This family patriarch marries one daughter to Gaius Marius and the other to Lucius Cornelius Sulla--two rivals for "first man in Rome."
The book has a very large cast. McCullough lists 42 as "main characters" but few are really memorable years after my read. The central character in this book is definitely Gaius Marius, and this book tells the tale of his rise to power and his unprecedented six back to back consulships over the span of a decade. Sulla also comes through vividly--a complex character, sympathetic here despite his dark aspects. And their two wives, Julia and Jullila also are memorable characters in the book--as is Aurelia, the mother of Julius Caesar who is born in the last pages of the book.
I have a friend who is a classicist. She doesn't just know Greek and Latin, she teaches Latin for a living and Rome is her passion. She just couldn't get into this book. I've seen some reviewers complain it can be ponderous reading, and it can be and at such an intimidating length, I'm not sure I can ever bring myself to reread it. I don't think McCullough is as good a writer as, for instance, Robert Graves, of I, Claudius. But I loved this book, a favorite among historical fiction, for how it fully immersed me in the world of the late Roman Republic over two millennium ago. More so than Graves. How it can point up the modern aspects in all different sorts of social strata, from the maneuverings of the Senate to the startling cosmopolitan world of Aurelia's insula (tenement). I think my friend perhaps knew too much about Rome, and that spoiled her for the book--it would take outstanding prose writing to entice her into a world she already knows so intimately. And I don't think McCullough gives you that--the writing itself is fairly pedestrian. This isn't the kind of book that makes me want to highlight lines or dogear pages or linger in sheer envy of the prose. But it does what really fine historical fiction does--make you feel like you've lived in a distant place and era. And it's because of this book and series that when my Latinate friend said all she wanted in her field was dignitas, I understood exactly what she meant.
