Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar is a beautiful, complex novel from the perspective of a Roman emperor. Its subject matter is similar to I, Claudius, but the voice is much more abstract, more methodical, more contemplative. Eschewing specific details and events for a more philosophical reminiscence, the voice reminded me of Marilynne Robinson's Gilead: it was thoughtful and hypnotic. The difference, of course, is that August Hadrian is a much different person than Rev. John Ames. Historically, Hadrian is widely considered one of the "good" Roman emperors (especially compared to Nero or Caligula), but from a late-Modern perspective, that's not a high bar.
One is fooled by the voice, though. A surface reading of Memoirs of Hadrian does seem to present a milder, art-loving, anti-colonial statesman. We are lulled into this sense as Hadrian pulls away from the frontiers (his famous "wall" in Britain meant to be the cap on expansionism, for example). He loves the Greeks; he makes peace with the Parthians. But there's something sinister behind the barely described events. How old was Antinous when Hadrian "adopted" him as a lover? For that matter, what was the age difference? How did he suppress the Jewish revolt? How consensual were his myriad "loves"? How "accidental" was his blinding of a slave with his pen? Beyond the aesthetic prose, the novel hides a deeply unreliable narrator.
