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The Roman Way
In this informal history of Roman civilization, Edith Hamilton vividly depicts the Roman life and spirit as they are revealed in the greatest writers of the time. Among these literary guides are Cicero, who left an incomparable collection of letters; Catullus, the quintessential poet of love; Horace, the chronicler of a cruel and materialistic Rome; and the Romantics Virgil, Livy, and Seneca. The story concludes with the stark contrast between high-minded Stoicism and the collapse of values witnessed by Tacitus and Juvenal.
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1932
About the author
Edith Hamilton
34 books548 followersEdith Hamilton, an educator, writer and a historian, was born August 12, 1867 in Dresden, Germany, of American parents and grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, U.S.A. Her father began teaching her Latin when she was seven years old and soon added Greek, French and German to her curriculum. Hamilton's education continued at Miss Porter's School in Farmington, Connecticut and at Bryn Mawr College near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, from which she graduated in 1894 with an M.A. degree. The following year, she and her sister Alice went to Germany and were the first women students at the universities of Munich and Leipzich.
Hamilton returned to the United States in 1896 and accepted a position of the headmistress of the Bryn Mawr Preparatory School in Baltimore, Maryland. For the next twenty-six years, she directed the education of about four hundred girls per year. After her retirement in 1922, she started writing and publishing scholarly articles on Greek drama. In 1930, when she was sixty-three years old, she published The Greek Way, in which she presented parallels between life in ancient Greece and in modern times. The book was a critical and popular success. In 1932, she published The Roman Way, which was also very successful. These were followed by The Prophets of Israel (1936), Witness to the Truth: Christ and His Interpreters (1949), Three Greek Plays, translations of Aeschylus and Euripides (1937), Mythology (1942), The Great Age of Greek Literature (1943), Spokesmen for God (1949) and Echo of Greece (1957). Hamilton traveled to Greece in 1957 to be made an honorary citizen of Athens and to see a performance in front of the Acropolis of one of her translations of Greek plays. She was ninety years old at the time. At home, Hamilton was a recipient of many honorary degrees and awards, including election to the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Edith Hamilton died on May 31, 1963 in Washington, D.C.
Hamilton returned to the United States in 1896 and accepted a position of the headmistress of the Bryn Mawr Preparatory School in Baltimore, Maryland. For the next twenty-six years, she directed the education of about four hundred girls per year. After her retirement in 1922, she started writing and publishing scholarly articles on Greek drama. In 1930, when she was sixty-three years old, she published The Greek Way, in which she presented parallels between life in ancient Greece and in modern times. The book was a critical and popular success. In 1932, she published The Roman Way, which was also very successful. These were followed by The Prophets of Israel (1936), Witness to the Truth: Christ and His Interpreters (1949), Three Greek Plays, translations of Aeschylus and Euripides (1937), Mythology (1942), The Great Age of Greek Literature (1943), Spokesmen for God (1949) and Echo of Greece (1957). Hamilton traveled to Greece in 1957 to be made an honorary citizen of Athens and to see a performance in front of the Acropolis of one of her translations of Greek plays. She was ninety years old at the time. At home, Hamilton was a recipient of many honorary degrees and awards, including election to the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Edith Hamilton died on May 31, 1963 in Washington, D.C.
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June 19, 2017
Edith Hamilton was an interesting woman. She was an educator and read Greek and Latin (and French and German) all her life for her own pleasure. She wrote this book in her 60's. It reflected her life-long love of literature and was insightful. In her words, “What the Romans did has always interested me much less than what they were and what the historians have said they were is beyond all comparison less interesting to me than what they themselves said.” She focused on what we can derive from literature about the Romans. I found her style straight-forward and stimulating.
Hamilton opened by pointing out that the “fountainhead of our knowledge” begins with the comedic writers Plautus and Terence, that comedy is a mirror, reflecting a people by what they find humorous. She moved through more famous figures; Cicero, Caesar, Horace, keeping to her promise to draw portraits of the Romans from what they themselves said about Rome. Though these men were famous, they were not all necessarily from privileged backgrounds. So there really is quite a disparity sometimes in the picture we get.
I did have a few questions. She had a brief discussion on the treatment of women in Greek and Roman literature, pointing out that Virgil's treatment of Dido set the precedent for how women are treated in consequent works. Virgil's Dido “made the fatal slip” and loses all while the matter is merely incidental to Aeneas. Meanwhile, Homer's Helen is not blamed at all for her “slip”. It simply was what it was. The contrast was interesting, but I wondered if it was that simple? Homer's treatment of Penelope seems to suggest otherwise. She was praised for remaining faithful to Odysseus. Or was she? Did I just read it that way but Homer was actually just recounting one woman's faithfulness in the same way he recounted Helen's story? I'm not sure.
Another question was on her comments about pleasure and morality in the ancient world. She says, ”Pleasure and morality were not seen as opposed to each other in Greece.”. Then she recounts a story from Xenophon about Socrates visiting a courtesan as representative of all Greece and follows it with, ”But to the Romans the opposition between duty and pleasure was absolute. Men's natural inclinations were evil; their manifest obligation was sternly to control them.” It was my understanding that Socrates (or Plato?) thought pleasure an evil of the body to be escaped from. For him and his followers, would not pleasure and morality be opposed? And her comment about the Romans can be seen in drinking laws, but what about their pleasure in the arena? Why wasn't that seen as evil and “sternly controlled” rather than growing to outrageous proportions? I wondered if her comments here could only be partially applied. Or maybe she was thinking of the Stoic sect of Romans...
Of Stoics she says, “Alone in the Roman world their voice was heard denouncing the centuries-old gladiatorial games.” This seems to ignore the Christian voices that denounced the gladiatorial games.
As is the case with many parallels drawn after reading about ancient Rome, I found one of her closing paragraphs chilling: ”What Rome was capable of, the achievement of her empire shows. The Roman character had great qualities, great potential strength. If the people had held together, realizing their interdependence and working for a common good, their problems, completely strange and enormously difficult though they were, would not, it may well be believed, have proved too much for them. But they were split into sharpest oppositions, extremes that ever grew more extreme and so more irresponsible. A narrow selfishness kept men blind when their own self-preservation demanded a world-wide outlook.”
Basically, I think this book is perfect for the devoted dilettante transitioning from Greek to Roman literature.
Hamilton opened by pointing out that the “fountainhead of our knowledge” begins with the comedic writers Plautus and Terence, that comedy is a mirror, reflecting a people by what they find humorous. She moved through more famous figures; Cicero, Caesar, Horace, keeping to her promise to draw portraits of the Romans from what they themselves said about Rome. Though these men were famous, they were not all necessarily from privileged backgrounds. So there really is quite a disparity sometimes in the picture we get.
I did have a few questions. She had a brief discussion on the treatment of women in Greek and Roman literature, pointing out that Virgil's treatment of Dido set the precedent for how women are treated in consequent works. Virgil's Dido “made the fatal slip” and loses all while the matter is merely incidental to Aeneas. Meanwhile, Homer's Helen is not blamed at all for her “slip”. It simply was what it was. The contrast was interesting, but I wondered if it was that simple? Homer's treatment of Penelope seems to suggest otherwise. She was praised for remaining faithful to Odysseus. Or was she? Did I just read it that way but Homer was actually just recounting one woman's faithfulness in the same way he recounted Helen's story? I'm not sure.
Another question was on her comments about pleasure and morality in the ancient world. She says, ”Pleasure and morality were not seen as opposed to each other in Greece.”. Then she recounts a story from Xenophon about Socrates visiting a courtesan as representative of all Greece and follows it with, ”But to the Romans the opposition between duty and pleasure was absolute. Men's natural inclinations were evil; their manifest obligation was sternly to control them.” It was my understanding that Socrates (or Plato?) thought pleasure an evil of the body to be escaped from. For him and his followers, would not pleasure and morality be opposed? And her comment about the Romans can be seen in drinking laws, but what about their pleasure in the arena? Why wasn't that seen as evil and “sternly controlled” rather than growing to outrageous proportions? I wondered if her comments here could only be partially applied. Or maybe she was thinking of the Stoic sect of Romans...
Of Stoics she says, “Alone in the Roman world their voice was heard denouncing the centuries-old gladiatorial games.” This seems to ignore the Christian voices that denounced the gladiatorial games.
As is the case with many parallels drawn after reading about ancient Rome, I found one of her closing paragraphs chilling: ”What Rome was capable of, the achievement of her empire shows. The Roman character had great qualities, great potential strength. If the people had held together, realizing their interdependence and working for a common good, their problems, completely strange and enormously difficult though they were, would not, it may well be believed, have proved too much for them. But they were split into sharpest oppositions, extremes that ever grew more extreme and so more irresponsible. A narrow selfishness kept men blind when their own self-preservation demanded a world-wide outlook.”
Basically, I think this book is perfect for the devoted dilettante transitioning from Greek to Roman literature.
February 6, 2017
Edith Hamilton not only appreciates Latin literature for its use in the analysis of Roman history, but also the brilliance of their writings. By using Roman playwrights and poets, Hamilton traces the development of Rome, from its origin as something not-Greek, to the romantic and grandiose poems of Virgil, and the sentimental romantic that is Seneca.
The expression of Roman morals is first seen through its character within the plays of Terence and Plautus. The Mother, The Son, The Slave: each with their own role within society. Interestingly, these assigned roles continue to influence literature and society. For example, The Son's duty is to his Mother above all.
This application of Roman morals in theatre is also seen through the treatment of women:
Catullus, the lover of "Lesbia", personifies the role of The Young Man. Writing his love poems, he is emotional, his life only worth living when he is able to embrace Lesbia into his arms.
In comparison, although Horace was a romantic, "enjoying keenly all life's simplest pleasures", he is clear, cool, and balanced. Horace is a passionless poet, not soaring the skies with gods and goddesses. He wanted only the pleasant ways of the earth. Acknowledging that the Republic had died, and that Augustus was alive, Horace extolled Augustus with praise and devotion. Horace had realised how important money had become.
The Roman character was not borne for servility, however Horace was a product of an age where it was more important to have a great deal of money, that the sense of honour in its pursuits had been lost.
TBC
The expression of Roman morals is first seen through its character within the plays of Terence and Plautus. The Mother, The Son, The Slave: each with their own role within society. Interestingly, these assigned roles continue to influence literature and society. For example, The Son's duty is to his Mother above all.
FATHER: Right, my boy. Your mother first. There's nothing you should put head.
This application of Roman morals in theatre is also seen through the treatment of women:
"Strict virtues within the house for everyone. Outside, all the pleasant virtues for the men […] one of Rome's greatest achievements was the successful education of their women in the idea that their supreme duty was to be chaste."
"In Roman literature, a woman is always a woman. Her sex is never in the background of the picture [unlike Greek literature]."
Catullus, the lover of "Lesbia", personifies the role of The Young Man. Writing his love poems, he is emotional, his life only worth living when he is able to embrace Lesbia into his arms.
Would I too could so play with you, sweet sparrow
I would lift from my spirit its dark trouble.
In comparison, although Horace was a romantic, "enjoying keenly all life's simplest pleasures", he is clear, cool, and balanced. Horace is a passionless poet, not soaring the skies with gods and goddesses. He wanted only the pleasant ways of the earth. Acknowledging that the Republic had died, and that Augustus was alive, Horace extolled Augustus with praise and devotion. Horace had realised how important money had become.
"If I make use of people who have money, I can dispense with poor fare."
The Roman character was not borne for servility, however Horace was a product of an age where it was more important to have a great deal of money, that the sense of honour in its pursuits had been lost.
"Everything, virtue, honour, fame, everything human and divine, obey beautiful riches."
TBC
June 24, 2012
Like the Greek Way, the Roman Way is a collection of interpretive essays on specific writers and their broader cultural context, this time, of course, relocated to Italy's capital. Hamilton of course brings her astonishing breadth of knowledge of the subject to this work, as well as the fascinating fruits of a lifetime spent in the contemplation of the works that have been the focus of her study. Her insight into Roman culture is, in my opinion, indispensable to anyone interested in the topic, even now, almost 80 years after the publication of the Roman Way.
Hamilton's subject matter and method in all of the books of hers that I've read so far appeal to me a great deal and I have been hard pressed to find anything to criticize. So it is, too, with the Roman Way save one: the passion and joy that came through the stolid, academic language of her volumes on Greece seem dimmed in the Roman Way, if not absent entirely sometimes. The feeling I got reading this book was that Hamilton felt like she had to produce a Roman companion to the Greek Way in order to give a full treatment to the Classical World, and thus The Roman Way was a work of necessity and the Greek Way was a labor of love.
That notwithstanding, I'm very glad to have read this book: it's given me much to think about and a new appreciation for the writers whom she treats.
Hamilton's subject matter and method in all of the books of hers that I've read so far appeal to me a great deal and I have been hard pressed to find anything to criticize. So it is, too, with the Roman Way save one: the passion and joy that came through the stolid, academic language of her volumes on Greece seem dimmed in the Roman Way, if not absent entirely sometimes. The feeling I got reading this book was that Hamilton felt like she had to produce a Roman companion to the Greek Way in order to give a full treatment to the Classical World, and thus The Roman Way was a work of necessity and the Greek Way was a labor of love.
That notwithstanding, I'm very glad to have read this book: it's given me much to think about and a new appreciation for the writers whom she treats.
December 31, 2020
Read this book after reading the Greek Way. Understand the difference between the Greeks, who were truly exceptional in culture, and the Romans, who created an exceptional state. I like Hamilton’s refreshing woman’s perspective too. Her discussion about the Romans putting women on a pedestal is particularly insightful.
August 9, 2023
I wanted to like this a lot more but it was just… odd? A lot of times it was just a series of quotes and brief explanations, or imagined scenes of these writers. Was drifting to two stars but the titular chapter and the stories of the post Augustus Rome were four stars in their own right.
September 2, 2018
I read this book in my studies of ancient history this year, alongside Plutarch and Cicero. While I enjoyed this book, I don’t think it compares to The Greek Way, which was excellent. This book is very good and insightful, it just falls short of all of the beauty that was captured in The Greek Way. But—that is sort of how history played out—I don’t think there were as many beautiful things to write about during this time in history. I still love how Edith Hamilton brings it all to life and helps us to understand the mind of the ancient Romans.
December 10, 2007
Edith Hamilton is sassy. I wish I had gone to Bryn Mayr Girl's school in the 1920s and taken her class. Yet another life changing experience I missed out on.
May 12, 2023
“What the Romans did has always interested me much less than what they were, and what the historians have said they were is beyond all comparison less interesting to me than what they themselves said.”
By her admission, Edith Hamilton had spent more than a half-century reading Latin for her own pleasure before getting a start on this book. She emphasises that she reads Latin for pleasure because this book was in large part written as a protest against the dull education in the Classics that Hamilton received as one of the first North American women admitted to German Universities in the 1890s.
Reputation - 4/5
Far from being lifeless, The Roman Way and The Greek Way have become characteristic first introductions to the Classical World for American audiences. The Greek Way is the more famous of the two, but it is in The Roman Way that Hamilton seems more at home. Indeed it is among the ruins of Ancient Rome that all Western Civilisation made its home. The Romans, Hamilton points out, are worth reading because they are so like us. We see ourselves in them everywhere, and they have much to teach us by their successes and their failures.
Point - 3/5
By the last few chapters of this book Hamilton arrives at some of the now cliche comparisons between vices of Imperial Rome and those of our own decadent age. These analogies, reflections, and warnings, however, are not the bulk of her book. And that is a good thing.
Instead, Hamilton focuses more on bringing the ancient texts to life. Isolating quotes and relating them to the historical surroundings, she tries to show what kind of men Cicero, Horace, or Virgil really were. This makes for very engaging reading, because, without actually having to work our way through hundreds of pages of Cicero's speeches and letters (especially not in Latin), we are able to form a sort of opinion about the man himself.
But it is a bit misleading. After all, we are seeing Cicero through Edith Hamilton's lens. She has selected the quotes and tried to explain his character the way she has understood it. Granted, she has studied this stuff for 50 years or more, but there is still much in this book that smells of psychological analysis and personal imagination.
Further, Hamilton suffers from one of the most annoying characteristics of anglophone academics:
The Uncertain Hyperbole
[Digression - feel free to skip]
Anyone who has read English art criticism from Hazlitt through Ruskin and on is familiar with the Uncertain Hyperbole. Here is the formula:
1) It begins with a huge thesis, usually involving someone being the "the greatest" or "the most" or "the first." At first glance, it seems to us that we have arrived at some climax of the writing. THIS is what we are supposed to pay attention to. Here, the author has said something definitive that it is worth taking note of.
But on closer look we see that huge thesis carrying with it terms of caveat that obscure the exact meaning of the whole idea.
Here is an example from The Roman Way:
“Tacitus (was) a man of genius hardly surpassed by earlier writers.”
Hardly. What does it mean? Was he surpassed? Was he not? By adding “hardly," what would be firm, if perhaps incorrect, conviction becomes a vague sentence that means nothing.
You often find these sorts of theses marked with a shaky word like “nearly,” “perhaps,” or “almost” which is so clearly the ancestor of the “sort of” “kind of”s that flood our contemporary speech.
Unfortunately for Hamilton, her writing is rife with the Uncertain Hyperbole. Every chapter it's Virgil is perhaps the first this, Horace may be the only that, Catullus could be considered the greatest this, None, it seems, can equal Livy in that.
2) After these ambiguous statements, the critic goes on to compare the work of this great man (artist/writer/general/etc.) to an inferior man or one who lived in an era or culture who would have judged him completely differently.
3) Finally, the critic brings about a resolution by being mildly critical of the great man’s legacy, pointing out his faults, and showing to what tasteless excesses they led in lesser men (for which he can't be wholly blamed, naturally).
It's all a common device that's effective because we love hyperbole but we hate sounding pompous. It's so typically English to be ALMOST endearing. Anyway, It is not deplorable, just annoying.
[End of Digression]
But I don't want to criticize Edith Hamilton too harshly for these faults. She seems to have written this book and The Greek Way for mere personal enjoyment towards the end of her life. Her overindulgence in literary criticism and rhetoric can be forgiven on that count.
Her lifetime of thinking about the topics presented in this book holds her in good stead, and she offers a wealth of interesting ideas to consider. In the sense that you may be provoked into a new track on the train of thought, she succeeds quite often. Every three or four pages in my case.
Recommendation - 4/5
The Roman Way is not history, and it is not quite literary criticism. The book sets out, as Edith Hamilton set out her entire life, to inspire enthusiasm for Ancient Rome. It succeeds wonderfully in that. I would recommend it highly to anyone who wants to read the classics of Latin literature. I would even recommend it to the more historically minded, who want the "feel" of Rome, because, even if Hamilton's vision is not perfectly accurate, it is alive and inviting.
Enjoyment - 4/5
I've read this book twice now. It was the first book that made me enthusiastic about the Roman world in a cultural sense. I picked it up again recently because I'm learning Latin and reading Virgil. It was a gratifying second read, and despite my rant about Hamilton's rhetorical style, she has written a book that I have enjoyed twice and will probably read again someday. I would like to return to it after I have read all the authors she outlines. I may end up agreeing with her vision of Rome. But even if I don't, Hamilton's is a pleasant Rome to visit.
By her admission, Edith Hamilton had spent more than a half-century reading Latin for her own pleasure before getting a start on this book. She emphasises that she reads Latin for pleasure because this book was in large part written as a protest against the dull education in the Classics that Hamilton received as one of the first North American women admitted to German Universities in the 1890s.
Reputation - 4/5
Far from being lifeless, The Roman Way and The Greek Way have become characteristic first introductions to the Classical World for American audiences. The Greek Way is the more famous of the two, but it is in The Roman Way that Hamilton seems more at home. Indeed it is among the ruins of Ancient Rome that all Western Civilisation made its home. The Romans, Hamilton points out, are worth reading because they are so like us. We see ourselves in them everywhere, and they have much to teach us by their successes and their failures.
Point - 3/5
By the last few chapters of this book Hamilton arrives at some of the now cliche comparisons between vices of Imperial Rome and those of our own decadent age. These analogies, reflections, and warnings, however, are not the bulk of her book. And that is a good thing.
Instead, Hamilton focuses more on bringing the ancient texts to life. Isolating quotes and relating them to the historical surroundings, she tries to show what kind of men Cicero, Horace, or Virgil really were. This makes for very engaging reading, because, without actually having to work our way through hundreds of pages of Cicero's speeches and letters (especially not in Latin), we are able to form a sort of opinion about the man himself.
But it is a bit misleading. After all, we are seeing Cicero through Edith Hamilton's lens. She has selected the quotes and tried to explain his character the way she has understood it. Granted, she has studied this stuff for 50 years or more, but there is still much in this book that smells of psychological analysis and personal imagination.
Further, Hamilton suffers from one of the most annoying characteristics of anglophone academics:
The Uncertain Hyperbole
[Digression - feel free to skip]
Anyone who has read English art criticism from Hazlitt through Ruskin and on is familiar with the Uncertain Hyperbole. Here is the formula:
1) It begins with a huge thesis, usually involving someone being the "the greatest" or "the most" or "the first." At first glance, it seems to us that we have arrived at some climax of the writing. THIS is what we are supposed to pay attention to. Here, the author has said something definitive that it is worth taking note of.
But on closer look we see that huge thesis carrying with it terms of caveat that obscure the exact meaning of the whole idea.
Here is an example from The Roman Way:
“Tacitus (was) a man of genius hardly surpassed by earlier writers.”
Hardly. What does it mean? Was he surpassed? Was he not? By adding “hardly," what would be firm, if perhaps incorrect, conviction becomes a vague sentence that means nothing.
You often find these sorts of theses marked with a shaky word like “nearly,” “perhaps,” or “almost” which is so clearly the ancestor of the “sort of” “kind of”s that flood our contemporary speech.
Unfortunately for Hamilton, her writing is rife with the Uncertain Hyperbole. Every chapter it's Virgil is perhaps the first this, Horace may be the only that, Catullus could be considered the greatest this, None, it seems, can equal Livy in that.
2) After these ambiguous statements, the critic goes on to compare the work of this great man (artist/writer/general/etc.) to an inferior man or one who lived in an era or culture who would have judged him completely differently.
3) Finally, the critic brings about a resolution by being mildly critical of the great man’s legacy, pointing out his faults, and showing to what tasteless excesses they led in lesser men (for which he can't be wholly blamed, naturally).
It's all a common device that's effective because we love hyperbole but we hate sounding pompous. It's so typically English to be ALMOST endearing. Anyway, It is not deplorable, just annoying.
[End of Digression]
But I don't want to criticize Edith Hamilton too harshly for these faults. She seems to have written this book and The Greek Way for mere personal enjoyment towards the end of her life. Her overindulgence in literary criticism and rhetoric can be forgiven on that count.
Her lifetime of thinking about the topics presented in this book holds her in good stead, and she offers a wealth of interesting ideas to consider. In the sense that you may be provoked into a new track on the train of thought, she succeeds quite often. Every three or four pages in my case.
Recommendation - 4/5
The Roman Way is not history, and it is not quite literary criticism. The book sets out, as Edith Hamilton set out her entire life, to inspire enthusiasm for Ancient Rome. It succeeds wonderfully in that. I would recommend it highly to anyone who wants to read the classics of Latin literature. I would even recommend it to the more historically minded, who want the "feel" of Rome, because, even if Hamilton's vision is not perfectly accurate, it is alive and inviting.
Enjoyment - 4/5
I've read this book twice now. It was the first book that made me enthusiastic about the Roman world in a cultural sense. I picked it up again recently because I'm learning Latin and reading Virgil. It was a gratifying second read, and despite my rant about Hamilton's rhetorical style, she has written a book that I have enjoyed twice and will probably read again someday. I would like to return to it after I have read all the authors she outlines. I may end up agreeing with her vision of Rome. But even if I don't, Hamilton's is a pleasant Rome to visit.
March 30, 2010
What does it mean to be an American? Despite living smack dab in the middle of the U.S. my entire life, despite being surrounded by other so-called Americans, despite all my obvious expertise, of course I can't answer that question. It is ridiculous, of course, to even consider that one worldview or way of thinking surrounds everyone in a particular country, from the homeless black man to the millionaire heiress. Hit the streets with intentions of gathering opinions and then draw a general consensus, and I doubt you will hold in the end little more than vague generalizations.
The Roman Way attempts something of the sort with Ancient Rome, and the prospect seems even more absurd. Hamilton asserts, simply by writing this book, that there is some kind of "Roman Way," a peculiarly Roman way of thinking. To support these claims she goes to the Romans themselves, or what's left of them; that is, she relies only on the literary remains. In a way this approach makes sense: "The writings of the day show the quality of the people as no historical reconstruction can." But there are some obvious caveats: the "Roman Way" gleaned from these writings, of course, will not be that of women, slaves, free men of the lower classes, etc. --in short, 90-something percent of the population. These people are mentioned in the works of the privileged, and consequently in The Roman Way, but always through the very partial lenses of those writers. So this book is not the evaluation of how some 50 million people from two millennia ago thought about the world, but how a few dozen men wrote about it, in a perspective representative of a few thousand.
This much narrower scope makes the subject much more manageable, and there is still much room for discussion. Edith Hamilton does an admiral job, running through Roman literature, from Plautus and Terrence to Juvenal and the Stoics, discussing each author's unique spot in literature as well their commonality with other Roman authors. Homogeneous bunch, they may seem to some -- yet Catullus, Cicero, and Horace, three rich white men of approximately the same era, were each of vastly different stuff. To support her thesis, Edith Hamilton must somehow bring these people together, threading together their common thought.
Just what did bind these people together? Maybe it is Nationalism, sometimes manifested as simple pride in one's country, sometimes shaped into an almost fanatical devotion to Queen Roma. It is a good first guess: the sentiment seems to pervade every inch of some authors' works, especially the political authors. The poems fit in, too, to some extent --The Aeneid was one large advertisement for Rome, after all-- but just how much did the dreamy and intense Catullus care for such things?
Then there is Romanticism -- a tough sell when talking of such a common sense, seemingly unimaginative group as the Romans, but Hamilton convinced me. She drove home her point especially through comparing the Roman works with Greek counterparts. For example, in the Aeneid, when Vulcan forges a shield for the hero, "flames lick the sky." In the Illiad, when Hephaestus fulfills a similar request for Achilles he simply makes the darn thing -- it is loud, fiery, and perhaps even divine, but it lacks that sky-licking flare. I have not read the Illiad, but Hamilton asserts that, though it has a thoroughly romantic subject, it never strays far from what she calls classicism. Those day-dreaming Greeks, it seemed, preferred to keep their daydreaming within the realm of possibility, while many of the normally practical Romans let their minds soar when putting words on paper.
For further analysis of the differences between the Greek and Roman minds we have very convenient sources, namely the Latin plays of Terence, Plautus, and Seneca, and those of their Greek counterparts, on which they were based. Some are intended as direct copies, yet somehow turned out different, probably the influence of that mysterious force again. Then there are the plays of Seneca, which he intended from the beginning to be different, maybe romantic, and even distinctly Roman. Now there's some food for Common Sense: why would Seneca set out to create something so different from the Greek original if he didn't sense another, more home-spun style and sentiment?
It is an interesting theory, but it does require some squeezing and pushing, and I am still not sure what common feelings bound these men together --yet I am sure there was something of that sort, some kind of "Roman Way." Ultimately, it is one of those classic questions of the liberal arts: "you will never be able to answer it, but you will learn a lot by asking it." In this Edith Hamilton does an admirable job, a goddess of classical literature, laying out the facts for us mere mortals --and not shying away from liberal amounts of conjecture and digression.
Hamilton was a "popularizer" --because she dumbed things down, says the cynic -- because she made things interesting and fun, says the enthusiast. I am obviously a fan: Hamilton herself is classy and classic, and this is the kind of book that will always have a place. The question is one many will never grow tired of asking, the answer one that will eternally remain elusive, and, even though originally published in the '30s, "The Roman Way" has not lost its relevance in the discussion. It is one of the lucky few nonfiction books that will surely grace the shelves of public and school libraries for years to come.
The Roman Way attempts something of the sort with Ancient Rome, and the prospect seems even more absurd. Hamilton asserts, simply by writing this book, that there is some kind of "Roman Way," a peculiarly Roman way of thinking. To support these claims she goes to the Romans themselves, or what's left of them; that is, she relies only on the literary remains. In a way this approach makes sense: "The writings of the day show the quality of the people as no historical reconstruction can." But there are some obvious caveats: the "Roman Way" gleaned from these writings, of course, will not be that of women, slaves, free men of the lower classes, etc. --in short, 90-something percent of the population. These people are mentioned in the works of the privileged, and consequently in The Roman Way, but always through the very partial lenses of those writers. So this book is not the evaluation of how some 50 million people from two millennia ago thought about the world, but how a few dozen men wrote about it, in a perspective representative of a few thousand.
This much narrower scope makes the subject much more manageable, and there is still much room for discussion. Edith Hamilton does an admiral job, running through Roman literature, from Plautus and Terrence to Juvenal and the Stoics, discussing each author's unique spot in literature as well their commonality with other Roman authors. Homogeneous bunch, they may seem to some -- yet Catullus, Cicero, and Horace, three rich white men of approximately the same era, were each of vastly different stuff. To support her thesis, Edith Hamilton must somehow bring these people together, threading together their common thought.
Just what did bind these people together? Maybe it is Nationalism, sometimes manifested as simple pride in one's country, sometimes shaped into an almost fanatical devotion to Queen Roma. It is a good first guess: the sentiment seems to pervade every inch of some authors' works, especially the political authors. The poems fit in, too, to some extent --The Aeneid was one large advertisement for Rome, after all-- but just how much did the dreamy and intense Catullus care for such things?
Then there is Romanticism -- a tough sell when talking of such a common sense, seemingly unimaginative group as the Romans, but Hamilton convinced me. She drove home her point especially through comparing the Roman works with Greek counterparts. For example, in the Aeneid, when Vulcan forges a shield for the hero, "flames lick the sky." In the Illiad, when Hephaestus fulfills a similar request for Achilles he simply makes the darn thing -- it is loud, fiery, and perhaps even divine, but it lacks that sky-licking flare. I have not read the Illiad, but Hamilton asserts that, though it has a thoroughly romantic subject, it never strays far from what she calls classicism. Those day-dreaming Greeks, it seemed, preferred to keep their daydreaming within the realm of possibility, while many of the normally practical Romans let their minds soar when putting words on paper.
For further analysis of the differences between the Greek and Roman minds we have very convenient sources, namely the Latin plays of Terence, Plautus, and Seneca, and those of their Greek counterparts, on which they were based. Some are intended as direct copies, yet somehow turned out different, probably the influence of that mysterious force again. Then there are the plays of Seneca, which he intended from the beginning to be different, maybe romantic, and even distinctly Roman. Now there's some food for Common Sense: why would Seneca set out to create something so different from the Greek original if he didn't sense another, more home-spun style and sentiment?
It is an interesting theory, but it does require some squeezing and pushing, and I am still not sure what common feelings bound these men together --yet I am sure there was something of that sort, some kind of "Roman Way." Ultimately, it is one of those classic questions of the liberal arts: "you will never be able to answer it, but you will learn a lot by asking it." In this Edith Hamilton does an admirable job, a goddess of classical literature, laying out the facts for us mere mortals --and not shying away from liberal amounts of conjecture and digression.
Hamilton was a "popularizer" --because she dumbed things down, says the cynic -- because she made things interesting and fun, says the enthusiast. I am obviously a fan: Hamilton herself is classy and classic, and this is the kind of book that will always have a place. The question is one many will never grow tired of asking, the answer one that will eternally remain elusive, and, even though originally published in the '30s, "The Roman Way" has not lost its relevance in the discussion. It is one of the lucky few nonfiction books that will surely grace the shelves of public and school libraries for years to come.
December 26, 2017
Fascinating although the parallels between now and then are a little alarming.
July 31, 2024
Lovely. I enjoyed the focus on the literature of Rome, but also the glimpses of Roman psychology. Hamilton's musings about the nature of the Roman character is only teased, but she demonstrates a deep understanding of Roman history. Great introduction to a somewhat neglected topic.
September 5, 2024
How did the author managed to make a book about ancient Rome and its writers so damn boring and dry? The author is so biased too, acting like they know these writers personally and changing the readers perception of them. Not what I expected at all.
February 15, 2021
How did the Ancient Romans see themselves and their lives? Hamilton attempts to answer this question by exploring their ways and nature as reflected through the writings by a variety of Roman authors. A somewhat dated but nevertheless quite interesting read.
November 15, 2022
I liked this better than "The Greek Way" because.... I don't know the Roman authors as well, so Edith's sweeping, grandiose generalizations annoyed me less.
December 12, 2023
If you like poetry, I cannot recommend this book more. It has a collection of some of the greatest poems from Rome, as well as a general taste of the history of Rome through its characteristic men. Get this for the poetry and you shall not regret it.
February 25, 2015
This book is easy-to-read, well-written and insightful. Hamilton gives an authoritative account of the lives of a distant culture and their broader cultural context to today’s world. I really got a feeling for what the Romans thought and felt. Referencing such representational figures as Plautus and Terence, and even Cicero, she provided much interesting analyses from using examples of source documents. It isn’t that long though, and I wish she provide more of a history of Rome and a more comprehensive survey of Roman literature instead of character sketches of the chief Roman literary figures. But this is well worth the read. But her depiction of such things like the empire’s slaves and the games is absolutely astonishing and frightening.
January 14, 2022
Another interesting psychological portrait from Edith Hamilton, this time on the Romans instead of the Greeks. As another review mentioned, I do feel as though Hamilton had less passion about this book than her Greek Way— she wrote the previous due to her love of them, and this one out of seeming obligation or sense of duty— perhaps itself a good summation of the difference between Romans and Greeks. The beginning and middle could be a bit dry, but once she began speaking on Catullus and Horace I enjoyed the chapters much more. Her best work in the book is saved for the last two chapters, however, in which she directly compares Greek and Roman attitudes via their characterizations of the same figures. Overall, a good yet not strictly academic romp through the Roman spirit.
July 3, 2018
An interesting approach to what it means to be a Roman: following its greatest authors & orators. It works for the most part, but due to its pre-WW2 authorship, there is a very old-fashioned...and very English...sensibility to the interpretation & analysis. Combined with the occasionally stodgy writing style, this ends up being as much an historical artifact as it is a work of history in its own right.
June 18, 2010
The author succeeds in bringing an understanding of what the Romans thought and felt, and what their legacy to the modern world has been. Well and clearly written with interesting analyses and use of examples of source documents. I loved this book.
July 16, 2020
Not as good as the The Greek Way. I think Hamilton would have agreed, as she was clearly less impressed with Roman art than their precursors. Instead of judging them on their own merits, Hamilton constantly weighs the Roman Way of art against the Greek. In her eyes, the most important point to understand about Roman art is how much closer related it is to contemporary aesthetics. After quoting from a typical Roman play's dialog, Hamilton reflects:
But the reader must not interpret this Roman stamp as a sign of quality:
Clearly, Hamilton must have seen herself in her own time as being a Greek amongst Romans! The one poet she does seem to be fond of, Horace, is apparently not translatable to English without losing his charm.
Rather than dwell on art she apparently deemed as not worth study or translation, Hamilton diverts her attention to the public and private writings of Cicero, who ends up dominating this short book, then Virgil. Hamilton isn’t even satisfied with this old statesman, complaining that most of his letters are “dull” and “full of trivialities [and] repetitions.”
As for Virgil, he serves as the archetype for romantic exaggeration vs classical style. Hamilton provides a fabulous example, comparing the episode wherein Achilles’s mother begs new armor from the fire god against the same episode for Aeneas’s mother. Why the difference?
Speaking of the nature of things… why no profile of Lucretius or his great work? Is it because he was writing in Greek? Hamilton really only provides passing remarks on Tacitus, Juvenile, and Seneca, all of whom she at least provides some praise for. Why not give them the same treatment you gave Caesar, who (albeit important historically) barely wrote anything?
Incidentally, Hamilton identifies the same Classical to Romantic transformation across the course of the Bible, from the Classical God of Genesis 3:8 to Revelation 20:11. That as well would have been an interesting tangent, perhaps for another book?
Talk like this is so familiar to us, it is difficult for us to realize how new it was in the second century before Christ. It bears the true Roman stamp. There is nothing like it in Greek literature. Conscious virtue, noble declamation, a fine gesture, none of that is Greek. Where the Romans were all for exalted sentiments, the Greeks were singularly matter of fact. And this difference is an important reason, perhaps the chief reason, why we feel instinctively at home in the Roman way and strangers to the Greek.
But the reader must not interpret this Roman stamp as a sign of quality:
A good humored crowd, those people who filled the Roman theater in its first days of popularity, easily appealed to by any sentimental interest, eager to have the wicked punished, but not too severely, and the good live happily ever after. No occasions wanted for intellectual exertion. No wit or deft malice. Fun such as could be passively enjoyed, broad in the flavor of obscenity. Most marked characteristic of all, a love of mediocrity, a complete satisfaction with the average. The people who applauded these plays wanted nothing bigger than their own small selves. They were democratic.
Clearly, Hamilton must have seen herself in her own time as being a Greek amongst Romans! The one poet she does seem to be fond of, Horace, is apparently not translatable to English without losing his charm.
Rather than dwell on art she apparently deemed as not worth study or translation, Hamilton diverts her attention to the public and private writings of Cicero, who ends up dominating this short book, then Virgil. Hamilton isn’t even satisfied with this old statesman, complaining that most of his letters are “dull” and “full of trivialities [and] repetitions.”
As for Virgil, he serves as the archetype for romantic exaggeration vs classical style. Hamilton provides a fabulous example, comparing the episode wherein Achilles’s mother begs new armor from the fire god against the same episode for Aeneas’s mother. Why the difference?
The romantic artist must not be judged by the canon of strict accuracy. He will not be bound by fact, “the world being inferior to the soul”, as Bacon says, “by reason whereof there is more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety, than can be found in the nature of things.” To the classicist the nature of things is the truth and he desires only to see clearly what it is. The romanticist is the adventurer drawn on by the new and the strange where to him truth is to be found.
Speaking of the nature of things… why no profile of Lucretius or his great work? Is it because he was writing in Greek? Hamilton really only provides passing remarks on Tacitus, Juvenile, and Seneca, all of whom she at least provides some praise for. Why not give them the same treatment you gave Caesar, who (albeit important historically) barely wrote anything?
Incidentally, Hamilton identifies the same Classical to Romantic transformation across the course of the Bible, from the Classical God of Genesis 3:8 to Revelation 20:11. That as well would have been an interesting tangent, perhaps for another book?
July 12, 2021
The idea of examining culture through art is phenomenal. The way it's applied here often falls short. A great example is the chapter on Catullus and in particular his love poems. Hamilton explicitly reads the Lesbia material as historical, as constructing a real-life narrative of the poet's love affair. Why? Surely these texts are an open invitation to explore Roman ideas about romance, gender, and fidelity? We might even catch glimpses of their material culture. Turning them into a "true story" seems contrary to the stated aims of the book. It's also extra awkward now that we know they certainly weren't historical; many of Catullus's works were plagiarism translations from other authors, notably Sappho.
Classics has come a long way since Hamilton's time, and even basic translation has changed a lot, or at least the kind of basic translation that was taught to women. I'm not sure if back then they knew that "parrot" was euphemism for "vagina," but they definitely knew that "peeling back" a man in a backalley did not refer to stealing his money. So I find her to be an unreliable guide on many points.
Finally, I agree with other reviewers that Hamilton's own morality comes down heavily on the texts in a way which can be jarring. Her charactersation of Catullus as a plain, innocent "country boy" beggars belief, but it is required, I suppose, for her Disney villain caricature of Lesbia/Clodia to make sense. She has her favourite characters in history, and you won't be kept guessing as to who they are.
I will say, though, that the "favourite characters" school of Classics is one that can get a person pretty far. You can suck up a lot of historical detail quickly and remember it forever when you binge history the same way you would a miniseries. At the same time, you have to be careful to keep it real sometimes, to examine your sources and assumptions and distinguish that from the narrative you're creating. I don't think Hamilton has done that and I don't think she's a good reality check for others, either. She can motivate you to fall in love with Rome, but other authors can do that a little better, and closer to historical/linguistic reality as well.
Classics has come a long way since Hamilton's time, and even basic translation has changed a lot, or at least the kind of basic translation that was taught to women. I'm not sure if back then they knew that "parrot" was euphemism for "vagina," but they definitely knew that "peeling back" a man in a backalley did not refer to stealing his money. So I find her to be an unreliable guide on many points.
Finally, I agree with other reviewers that Hamilton's own morality comes down heavily on the texts in a way which can be jarring. Her charactersation of Catullus as a plain, innocent "country boy" beggars belief, but it is required, I suppose, for her Disney villain caricature of Lesbia/Clodia to make sense. She has her favourite characters in history, and you won't be kept guessing as to who they are.
I will say, though, that the "favourite characters" school of Classics is one that can get a person pretty far. You can suck up a lot of historical detail quickly and remember it forever when you binge history the same way you would a miniseries. At the same time, you have to be careful to keep it real sometimes, to examine your sources and assumptions and distinguish that from the narrative you're creating. I don't think Hamilton has done that and I don't think she's a good reality check for others, either. She can motivate you to fall in love with Rome, but other authors can do that a little better, and closer to historical/linguistic reality as well.
March 18, 2017
I think I should start by saying I love Edith Hamilton; her Mythology, probably more than anything else, is responsible my lifelong love of the subject and she is on my short list of anyone from all of history that I would invite to my ultimate dinner party. However, this is not by any means a perfect book.
Hamilton writes so sublimely when she weaves in and out of text from sources and her own writing to tell a story. Her chapter on Sullust when she traces his love affair with his "Lesbia" through his poems is truly moving. However, when she doesn't ground her writing in source quotes she can get rather preachy. She has the points she wants to make and makes them with often a bit too much repetition. For a writer who has the ability to tell a tale with such economy it is surprising to see her get carried away like that.
As for the substance of her argument in the book there is, again, a lot to like. Her idea that Roman artistic personality is essentially romantic is fun when contrasted with how we normally think on the subject. However, she makes the same mistake that so many other people do when thinking about Rome: the idea that it essentially ended when Commodus followed Marcus Aurelius. But Rome sticks around for another almost 300 years (longer than the US has survived total). You just can't ignore that!
All in all it's a lovely book and a nice primer on who to read from the ancient sources. It's fun to think about these people not just for their historical importance but their artistic merit. Definitely worth a library hunt!
Hamilton writes so sublimely when she weaves in and out of text from sources and her own writing to tell a story. Her chapter on Sullust when she traces his love affair with his "Lesbia" through his poems is truly moving. However, when she doesn't ground her writing in source quotes she can get rather preachy. She has the points she wants to make and makes them with often a bit too much repetition. For a writer who has the ability to tell a tale with such economy it is surprising to see her get carried away like that.
As for the substance of her argument in the book there is, again, a lot to like. Her idea that Roman artistic personality is essentially romantic is fun when contrasted with how we normally think on the subject. However, she makes the same mistake that so many other people do when thinking about Rome: the idea that it essentially ended when Commodus followed Marcus Aurelius. But Rome sticks around for another almost 300 years (longer than the US has survived total). You just can't ignore that!
All in all it's a lovely book and a nice primer on who to read from the ancient sources. It's fun to think about these people not just for their historical importance but their artistic merit. Definitely worth a library hunt!
December 7, 2023
Good summaries of Cicero and Virgil and the contrast between Greek and Roman literature (Trojan Women by Epicurus vs. Seneca, contrast is crazy, I want to read)
Funny quotes from Juvenal’s satires on women: “worst of all, she who will discuss Virgil and Homer. For heaven’s sake, get a wife who doesn’t understand all she reads. How I hate a woman who quotes ancient poets to me I never heard of.”
I also learned how much Caesar wanted to be Cicero’s friend (wanted him to join him, Pompey, and Crassus when the three were ruling Rome) and how much Cicero didn’t like him, and liked Pompey, the latter which doesn’t make sense since he was also an authoritarian. They knew each other since they were kids and Caesar wanted to be friends but Cicero didn’t.
Also learned that the Roman Stoics were basically the only people arguing that slaves are equal / brothers to non slaves and that the idea that men are naturally equal is largely derived from Stoicism
Funny quotes from Juvenal’s satires on women: “worst of all, she who will discuss Virgil and Homer. For heaven’s sake, get a wife who doesn’t understand all she reads. How I hate a woman who quotes ancient poets to me I never heard of.”
I also learned how much Caesar wanted to be Cicero’s friend (wanted him to join him, Pompey, and Crassus when the three were ruling Rome) and how much Cicero didn’t like him, and liked Pompey, the latter which doesn’t make sense since he was also an authoritarian. They knew each other since they were kids and Caesar wanted to be friends but Cicero didn’t.
Also learned that the Roman Stoics were basically the only people arguing that slaves are equal / brothers to non slaves and that the idea that men are naturally equal is largely derived from Stoicism
November 25, 2018
Pas du tout le même niveau que "The Greek Way", et encore plus important, on ne sent pas du tout le même enthousiasme chez Edith Hamilton vis-á-vis des Romains que elle a pour les Grecs. The Greek Way était nice to write, pendant que The Roman Way était plus quelque chose elle devait terminer. Elle distingue entre la poésie, et la beauté, et l'intéllectualisme des Grecs d'un côté, et le pragmatisme, l'individualisme et la focalisation des banalités des quotidien des Romains d'un autre côte. On sent bien lesquels elle préfère, et qui est, selon son opinion, la raison pour la chute de Rome. Sans idées, sans structure intellectuelle, pas de development, et tout finira par se terminer. Comme la chute de Rome.
August 3, 2019
Edith Hamilton is brilliant, and her book is written well enough to express that. The book covers the social seeds Rome has sown, that have morphed into modern (GB in this book, but applies to Americans and the "West" in general. This is a book for an advanced Roman history hobbiest/student due to its lack of narrative history. One must know a great deal about the story and culture of Rome before everything she's saying is going to make sense. To make this an even more interesting read it was published in 1932. So it is an interesting lense to take when looking at rome.
March 31, 2021
Three stars is probably too harsh on this book. However, four would put it on par with the other Hamilton books I’ve reviewed here and I simply didn’t enjoy it as much as her works on Greece. Plus, she was a little harsh on Seneca for my liking. Honestly though, the work is an achievement in the amount of analysis she packs into a small number of pages without boring the reader. Using literary analysis to study a culture’s history is fascinating to me and Hamilton is par excellence in this department.
August 4, 2023
This older book was written by a classicist and educator well-versed in the material. She wishes to portray Roman society only through the writings of its poets and playwrights, thus ignoring several important segments of that society: women and slaves. The reader receives a short survey of Roman literature and the author’s thoughts on what made Rome great. Many of the author’s ideas are outmoded, but the survey of Roman writing makes for engaging reading.
Please read full review here.
Please read full review here.
July 17, 2017
The book provides an account of Rome, as written by her own people instead of based on what historians have uncovered. It discusses the differences between the Greek classicism and Roman romanticism, traces the influence of Roman theatre on Western theatre, and explains what the Roman characters were like.
I found the narration a bit difficult in some places, but overall it is a very enlightening introduction to Rome, her legacy, and how she shaped the Western civilisation.
I found the narration a bit difficult in some places, but overall it is a very enlightening introduction to Rome, her legacy, and how she shaped the Western civilisation.
May 20, 2020
Hamilton makes the point that we can better understand a time and place in history (she uses for example Trollope for Victorian England) by discussing the prime people of that period—the philosophers, writers, playwrights, politicians, military generals and heroes, etc. After reading this book and her The Way of the Greeks I must acquiescence to her point. By her method, one is provided engaging historiographies surpassing mere introductions.
January 28, 2021
4.5 🌟
edith hamilton was the funniest person to have ever lived even if it wasn't intentional and i love the translations in this book, especially plautus and terence's comedies. however, if i hadn't any background in latin literature or history, i would have been somewhat lost and disengaged. also there was this strange anti-seneca slant to the chapter partially about him which made me sad because he's one of my favourites.
edith hamilton was the funniest person to have ever lived even if it wasn't intentional and i love the translations in this book, especially plautus and terence's comedies. however, if i hadn't any background in latin literature or history, i would have been somewhat lost and disengaged. also there was this strange anti-seneca slant to the chapter partially about him which made me sad because he's one of my favourites.
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