A lesson learned from CLEOPATRA, by Stacy Schiff
Be careful who you hitch your wagon to.
Writing this blog out on my phone because my laptop alas won’t work properly in this hotel room I’m currently in, so apologies to my readers if this format is funkier than normal! Stacy Schiff is a prolific historical writer (some of her more recent excellent works being studies of the Salem Witch Trials and Samuel Adams), but 2010’s Cleopatra: A Life might be her most iconic book, having stayed on bestseller lists for years after its release. I only recently managed to catch up with it, courtesy of my local used paperback book store; I had avoided it for so long because I’ve never been all that interested in the subject matter, and it was only after loving some of Schiff’s other work that I decided to give this one a try. I was quite glad I did, because Cleopatra is a fascinating portrait of a woman desperately trying to maintain an empire on its last legs, and inadvertently dooming it in the process. Cleopatra’s story is an historical cautionary tale about the dangers of giving up too much for the sake of trying to restore some past visions of glory, and being left in the dustbin of history as a result.
That lesson could apply equally to both Cleopatra and her famous love interest Mark Antony, as their alliance proved toxic and destructive on both their ends. For Cleopatra’s side, she was the last of a Ptolemaic dynasty dating back to Alexander the Great, that was desperately trying to maintain an independent Greek line to rule over Egypt while the Roman Empire steadily encroached upon the ancient world. She was by all accounts brilliant, pragmatic, and occasionally ruthless (though no more so than any ancient ruler trying to maintain power through any means necessary; one hilarious side plot Schiff explores is just how treacherous and bloodthirsty Cleopatra’s family line was, and how she was relatively restrained by those standards). Choosing to ally with Julius Caesar through a famous seduction (the idea being his son with her could maintain the Egyptian ruling line), Cleopatra inadvertently inserted herself into the bloody mess of Roman politics, as Caesar’s subsequent assassination left her in a precarious position as Caesar’s lieutenants warred over his legacy and succession plan. Cleopatra ultimately sided with Caesar’s friend and general Mark Antony, a brilliant battlefield commander and charismatic leader who could also be emotional, erratic, and deeply delusional. Antony on his end made a huge mistake allying with the Egyptian queen, as that decision alienated him from the Roman masses who distrusted a powerful foreign woman. Those miscalculations put both Cleopatra and Antony in the crosshairs of Caesar’s cunning adopted son Octavian (eventually known to history as Augustus), who eventually humiliated Antony and Cleopatra’s forces on the battlefield, leading to Antony and Cleopatra’s famous suicides as Egypt was forcefully converted into a Roman province.
Schiff has been open about the difficulties of studying ancient history, as it is an effort of taking sources written in dead languages originally meant as propaganda, and trying to make an actual historical record out of them (one funny difficulty she mentions I never even thought of—trying to paint a picture of what Cleopatra’s childhood might have been like, as ancient historians generally thought people’s childhoods were not worth studying). Cleopatra above all has been the subject of many negative myths and legends, from ancient historians who were threatened by the very concept of a powerful and indecent female ruler. Schiff does a great job in reconstructing the life of a woman who seemed to genuinely care about her people and kingdom, while also trying to navigate the brutality of an ancient world that tolerated no weakness from its rulers. Schiff destroys many an ancient legend about Cleopatra. Some examples: she was not known for being particularly beautiful (always described as very ethnically Greek looking and plain), but her infamous seduction powers were based on what a stunning intellect and powerful personality she had; she probably had some real love for both Caesar and Antony, but she was also constantly trying to manipulate and improve her own negotiating position; and of course, that a woman who probably had an expert knowledge of poisons would not have trusted her fate to a random venomous snake, centuries of future artistic renderings be damned.
Overall, Schiff’s book is an excellent study of a famously misunderstood ancient ruler, and a cautionary tale about losing everything when you sacrifice too much of your own core values for the sake of maintaining power. Both Cleopatra and Antony clung too hard to the past (hers being saving an independent Egypt, his being a belief that his old connections to Julius Caesar would allow people to forgive all his shortcomings), and as a result they lost everything in the wake of an insurgent new power that did not play by their ideas. Schiff’s book is a lot of speculation and interpretation, but it is a fascinating read for anyone who wants to learn a version of Cleopatra beyond the old romantic tragedies taught to us in our youths.
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