3.5 stars, but I'm going to round it up to 4 because the enjoyment I got out of it outweighed the flaws.
The positives, to me, were:
The focus: It's a Cleopatra novel that is actually about Cleopatra. My major contention with other novels about the last Pharaoh is that they tend to emphasise too much on her liaisons with Caesar and Antony to the detriment of herself as a ruler. Cleopatra had a life of her own independent of these Roman men who, while certainly very important in her life, weren't the end all be all of her story. Another point, that's not a flaw, is that her story is placed within the larger narrative of the fall of the Republic, in which she had a role because of Antony's involvement in warring with Octavian, which is also just a part of her story and not all.
In this novel, Cleopatra is seen from childhood, long before anything Roman rolled into her Egyptian court life. She's seen as a child princess in a shaky position, seen struggling through the palace coups by her siblings, seen with Caesar and without, seen as a mother, as a ruler, as a big sister to young Ptolemy, etc. There's a lot of her later romance and marriage to Antony, too, and thankfully by then we've seen enough of her other facets already by the time he's in her life. The first person narration also helps in making it her tale, despite the pitfalls of using this style.
Portrayal of the main character: The common portrayal of the scheming temptress who lured powerful Romans into her den of Eastern sensuality and perdition is Augustan propaganda. That is, it's Octavian's version of Cleopatra, and he had motives for blackening her name despite her defeat at his hands. Unfortunately, that's the one that's persisted the most, even McCullough (the author of the best series on the Roman Republic, in my opinion) has resorted to this, and it's also seen in some measure even in famous Hollywood films that supposedly "romanticise" Cleopatra as a tragic figure, but that in reality do her a disservice with their weird notion of "positive" portrayal. The Cleopatra in George's novel is nothing like this, and curiously, that's one complaint I've seen thrown at this novel. Maybe people are too used to the Scheming Cleo image? Because I've not seen that the Cleopatra in this novel isn't scheming or calculating or manipulative even; she's all that. It's just that it's devoid of the lurid element that'd make it stand out as her main trait. She also makes mistakes, grave ones, but she's not framed as a blundering idiot for that.
As for the negatives, I'd say they were:
Editing, editing, editing: The book would've been greatly serviced by a more attentive editor. It reads as if the only editing done was by the author herself, who doesn't seem to have yet mastered self-editing at the time she wrote the novel. I won't say anything about the pace, because that's subjective: some readers like (or at least don't have trouble with) slow and ponderous storytelling, other readers can't stand it and abandon the book, and yet other readers can't differentiate between slow pace and deficient editing. I think the slow pace did fit the scope of the story, as it spans decades, and the storytelling style, as it's first person and uses the "personal memoir" technique, having Cleopatra write her own story in scrolls, and this style does lend itself to rambling, to overdescription, to detours, to digressions, etc. It's par for the course with first person narration. And it's those detours that needed editing the most; the pace itself is fine, and it's not there throughout, as some "scrolls" narrate at a quicker pace.
Historical mistakes: As usual, this is a point that's going to call History aficionados more. I don't throw a book at the wall for a minor mistake, nobody can know everything, and Margaret George does seem to have done her homework researching the period, to judge by her reasonings in the Author's Note by the end. Nonetheless, she let slip in a few. For example, she calls Gaius Octavius Thurinus by the name of Octavian one year before his posthumous adoption by Caesar that turned him into Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, a.k.a. Octavian.
Not that these kinds of blunders detract from the story necessarily. But it does bother me...
'Splainin': Some authors can't seem to resist the temptation to talk down to the readership and explain things to them that they think won't be understood or obvious to the readers without authorial intervention. And George's is the most annoying sort: she translates stuff that is so glaringly obvious that it's insulting she'd assume the reader needs an English equivalent right afterwards. And I'm not speaking of obscure words or phrases in Latin or Egyptian, in which case it'd be at least understandable, but of things like:
- When she has Mark Antony introduce himself, she "translates" his name side by side in the same sentence, in the vein of "I'm Marcus Antonius. Mark Antony."
- Same when making poet Virgil introduce himself at a party to Cleopatra. "Publius Vergilius Maro. Vergil."
- And again when his other fellow poet (and fellow Augustan lickspittle) Horace introduces himself to her: "Quintus Horatius Flaccus. I am called Horace."
Oh, sure. I'm Marie-Hélène, and my name is sooo exotic that you'd never guess it's Mary-Ellen in English! You see what I mean. It's an unnatural way of speaking, and it's not like nobody would know, since their Latin names aren't so outlandishly different that the anglicised version obfuscates the originals. And it's not only names that George overexplains, in some parts she can't resist telling about a historical bit of data instead of just weaving it into the narrative.
So, after all the above, I'm still giving this rating? Yes. I did enjoy the novel, and it was a welcome change from the usual portrayals of Cleopatra I've read to date. I still think Margaret George was a tad too generous with Mark Antony's character, because he doesn't emerge as so noble from the historical records as he does in this novel, even after lifting the veil of propaganda and political slander.