Cleopatra

I have just finished reading Stacy Schiff's Cleopatra: A Life (2010, Little, Brown and Company).  Of the publications I have written, and occasionally still write for, not a one would be interested in a review by me of this book.  It is not about the martial arts, for one thing, and is about Central, rather than East, Asia.  Most importantly, the subject defies easy characterization - think of Cleopatra and we think of Elizabeth Taylor in her coal black wig, a figure whose most compelling decision of the day seems to be which stunning ensemble to wear (no offense to the late, great Ms. Taylor - I loved the film).

As many reviewers have pointed out, Schiff assesses the same sources that other historians have, but comes to a different set of conclusions.  To take one obvious example, Cleopatra VII did not become the lover of two of the most powerful men in the ancient world because she was stunningly beautiful, or (seriously!) a witch.  Schiff instead suggests that she was not even a great beauty (in the few images we can reliably identify, she has rather a large nose).  What she did have, apparently, was a superb education, high social status (at a time when well-born women of the Rome had no such thing), royal presence, and a very, very quick wit.

She also had an important requirement for getting, and keeping, power: a strong stomach for ruthless acts. She had both her first brother-husband and her sister - contenders for the throne - murdered in order to secure her position as ruler.  Lest we consider this unsettling, Schiff provides numerous examples to illustrate that Egyptian rulers undertook such actions for centuries.  She also notes that Cleopatra's family members would have done the same to her, given the chance.

Cleopatra reminds us of the difficulty of getting credit where it is due.  Her achievements, which included reclaiming some of her empire's lost prizes and (however briefly) reestablishing its glory, were eclipsed, even during her lifetime, by her personal relationships.  Over and over again, Schiff skewers historians and contemporary commentators for their mischaracterizations.  Schiff's barbs, lobbed in the full historical context of ancient Egypt, make the book very gratifying to read.  If you are (a) female, (b) charged with responsibilities, and (c) never recognized for the heroic things you do every day, you will find some sisterly commiseration with the Queen of Egypt, even if you never seriously considered killing off your siblings.

In the end, of course, Cleopatra loses - her life and her kingdom.  Both she and Marc Antony were summarily excised from the official histories, lest the winners be embarrassed by her wealth and power, or Marc Antony's widow suffer embarrassment (an intriguing character in her own right, Octavia - Antony's wife and the sister of Caesar Augustus - raised Cleopatra's children with Antony as her own).  But the story, or more properly, the legend, refused to die.  Schiff has peeled off the layers of hyperbole and given us back an image of Cleopatra as a person, at last, in her own right.