It is a low trick, to have the subject of your fictional biography ask of the person in whose voice it is written: “How will posterity judge us, eh, Tiro? That is the only question for a statesman. But before it can judge us, it must first remember who we are.” When it comes at the end of such a brilliant novel, it is too blatant an invitation for indulgent praise.

Know it then, that Imperium would have satisfied Cicero, great orator of ancient Rome, that “posterity” knows him well. Too well even, as Robert Harris lays out Cicero’s immense achievements amidst the difficult choices he later chose to make.

As Pompeii, his last book, made evident, Harris is a reliable guide to the ancient world. And in Imperium, he again shows his skill in distilling his research into a gripping narrative. Even the logistics of his narrative are curious. Tiro, household slave who became secretary to Cicero when he was unable to coherently convey the wealth of ideas and words teeming in his mind, is believed to have written a biography of the Roman senator.

Imperium tracks Tiro’s growth along with his master’s. Cicero, in quick pursuit of statesmanship on little else but talent, knows that for his ascent to be meaningful, it must carry along the men who serve him, key among them his amanuensis. Tiro fills the part well, he invents shorthand (the so-called Tironian annotation) to keep pace with the rush of Cicero’s speeches and written works.

... contd.