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The Flowers of Adonis
The Flowers of Adonis
383 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1969
32 people are currently reading
462 people want to read
About the author
Rosemary Sutcliff
108 books680 followersRosemary Sutcliff, CBE (1920-1992) was a British novelist, best known as a writer of highly acclaimed historical fiction. Although primarily a children's author, the quality and depth of her writing also appeals to adults. She once commented that she wrote "for children of all ages, from nine to ninety."
Born in West Clandon, Surrey, Sutcliff spent her early youth in Malta and other naval bases where her father was stationed as a naval officer. She contracted Still's Disease when she was very young and was confined to a wheelchair for most of her life. Due to her chronic sickness, she spent the majority of her time with her mother, a tireless storyteller, from whom she learned many of the Celtic and Saxon legends that she would later expand into works of historical fiction. Her early schooling being continually interrupted by moving house and her disabling condition, Sutcliff didn't learn to read until she was nine, and left school at fourteen to enter the Bideford Art School, which she attended for three years, graduating from the General Art Course. She then worked as a painter of miniatures.
Rosemary Sutcliff began her career as a writer in 1950 with The Chronicles of Robin Hood. She found her voice when she wrote The Eagle of the Ninth in 1954. In 1959, she won the Carnegie Medal for The Lantern Bearers and was runner-up in 1972 with Tristan and Iseult. In 1974 she was highly commended for the Hans Christian Andersen Award. Her The Mark of the Horse Lord won the first Phoenix Award in 1985.
Sutcliff lived for many years in Walberton near Arundel, Sussex. In 1975 she was appointed OBE for services to Children's Literature and promoted to CBE in 1992. She wrote incessantly throughout her life, and was still writing on the morning of her death. She never married.
http://us.macmillan.com/author/rosema...
Born in West Clandon, Surrey, Sutcliff spent her early youth in Malta and other naval bases where her father was stationed as a naval officer. She contracted Still's Disease when she was very young and was confined to a wheelchair for most of her life. Due to her chronic sickness, she spent the majority of her time with her mother, a tireless storyteller, from whom she learned many of the Celtic and Saxon legends that she would later expand into works of historical fiction. Her early schooling being continually interrupted by moving house and her disabling condition, Sutcliff didn't learn to read until she was nine, and left school at fourteen to enter the Bideford Art School, which she attended for three years, graduating from the General Art Course. She then worked as a painter of miniatures.
Rosemary Sutcliff began her career as a writer in 1950 with The Chronicles of Robin Hood. She found her voice when she wrote The Eagle of the Ninth in 1954. In 1959, she won the Carnegie Medal for The Lantern Bearers and was runner-up in 1972 with Tristan and Iseult. In 1974 she was highly commended for the Hans Christian Andersen Award. Her The Mark of the Horse Lord won the first Phoenix Award in 1985.
Sutcliff lived for many years in Walberton near Arundel, Sussex. In 1975 she was appointed OBE for services to Children's Literature and promoted to CBE in 1992. She wrote incessantly throughout her life, and was still writing on the morning of her death. She never married.
http://us.macmillan.com/author/rosema...
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Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews
January 1, 2022
Wow! A writer who does (sadly - did!) this sort of research!
Q:
... being an historical novelist rather than a historian, I have felt free to “fill in the gaps” and tidy up a little here and there.
I have provided a possible explanation for Antiochus’ insane foolhardiness when left in command of the Athenian Fleet, because Thucidides’ bald account is so unbelievable (unless one assumes that both Antiochus and Alkibiades were mentally defective) that any explanation seems more likely than none. I have departed from Xenophon in making Timandra the companion of Alkibiades’ escape from Sardis.
Alkibiades himself is an enigma. Even allowing that no man is all black and all white, few men can ever have been more wildly and magnificently piebald. Like another strange and contradictory character Sir Walter Raleigh, he casts a glamour that comes clean down the centuries, a dazzle of personal magnetism that makes it hard to see the man behind it. I have tried to see. I have tried to fit the pieces together into a coherent whole; I don’t know whether I have been successful or not; but I do not think that I have anywhere falsified the portrait.
I admit, before anyone accuses me of theft, that the lament for Adonis, which I have used in the first and last chapters of this book, is in fact a lament for Tammuz the Babylonian original of the same God, as anyone may see, who reads The Golden Bough. (c)
Q:
... being an historical novelist rather than a historian, I have felt free to “fill in the gaps” and tidy up a little here and there.
I have provided a possible explanation for Antiochus’ insane foolhardiness when left in command of the Athenian Fleet, because Thucidides’ bald account is so unbelievable (unless one assumes that both Antiochus and Alkibiades were mentally defective) that any explanation seems more likely than none. I have departed from Xenophon in making Timandra the companion of Alkibiades’ escape from Sardis.
Alkibiades himself is an enigma. Even allowing that no man is all black and all white, few men can ever have been more wildly and magnificently piebald. Like another strange and contradictory character Sir Walter Raleigh, he casts a glamour that comes clean down the centuries, a dazzle of personal magnetism that makes it hard to see the man behind it. I have tried to see. I have tried to fit the pieces together into a coherent whole; I don’t know whether I have been successful or not; but I do not think that I have anywhere falsified the portrait.
I admit, before anyone accuses me of theft, that the lament for Adonis, which I have used in the first and last chapters of this book, is in fact a lament for Tammuz the Babylonian original of the same God, as anyone may see, who reads The Golden Bough. (c)
March 29, 2022
The greatest hero, the worst traitor - Alkibiades is an enigma.
He casts a glamour that comes clean down the centuries, a dazzle of personal magnetism that makes it hard to see the man behind it.
Set in the death struggle between Athens and Sparta Alkibiades directs one Greek city against the other and calls on the Persians to settle a tie.
With such a chameleon like character he cannot be described by only one view point. This novel is written by many people - each seeing the face that Alkibiades chooses to show. We see him through the eyes of;
The Citizen - an Athenean who remains at Athens, an every-man with a lame leg
The Seaman - his pilot and most trusted friend
The Dead - plotters who planned to overthrow a city
The Trirarch - a ship's captain with a unwelcome duty to perform
The Wine Shopkeeper - a small man on the sidelines of history
The Soldier - he nearly died due to Alkibiades treachery, but still a supporter
The Priest - another on the sidelines of history
The Queen - trapped in a loveless marriage to the Spartan King she loves Alkibiades
The King - a true Spartan who cannot love, hates Athens and Alkibiades
The Spartan - an Ephor - the power behind the Spartan King
The Whore - a flute girl who wins the love of Alkibiades
The Rower - an Athenian sailor and supporter
The Citizen on watching Alkibiades lead his fleet into war
As he came opposite to where I stood, he turned his head, and just for a breath of time he looked full at me.
It was not easy to be young, and to watch young men march away to the war that was to gather so much glory (I was still so near to being a boy that war seemed to me a fine and valiant thing) and that passing glance made it no easier. In that moment, if I could have known what waited for our troops in Sicily, I think that with Alkibiades’ blazing blue glance upon me, I would still have asked nothing more of life than to follow him.
Then he was past, and the gold-dust fell from my eyes; and I saw again the empty street between its long hedges of craning people, and the bruise-dark stains of the trampled Adonis flowers. Men broke forward to follow him; some would run at his horse’s heels all the way to Piraeus.
The younger of the two men beside me said, ‘The Gods help him if ever he betrays us.’
And the old man said, ‘And may they help both him and us if ever we betray him.’
The Soldier on the fleet while waiting for Alkibiades to board
Corylas laughed a little uneasily. ‘I was just thinking — you know, this is a subject for Aristophanes to put into a play. Here’s the greatest fighting force Athens has ever sent overseas, setting off with her blessing and — we are told — the blessing of the Gods, under the command of a man with a blasphemy charge hanging over his head.’
I said, ‘I wonder if he knows he’s sailing under death’s shadow.’ I had not known I was going to say that. I had not even thought it, until the moment it was spoken.
The Seaman remembers becoming Alkibiades right hand man
No one less noble or less arrogant than Alkibiades would have been seen drinking with a fisher lad at a public wine booth; and no fisher lad with any sense of the fitness of things would have gone happily, without thought of the honour done him, to drink at a public wine booth with Alkibiades.
I never thought of that until I went home and told my parents what had happened. At first they did not believe me; and when they did, my father, who was of a hopeful disposition, kept telling me that my fortune was made. ‘He’ll be the making of you — the making of you, boy!’
Until my mother, who took a darker view of life, some said as the result of having married my father, said, ‘Or the death of you, if all I hear of that one be true.’
Well, my father has proved right so far, but there’s still time enough for my mother’s turn to come.
The Trirarch was sent to recall Alkibiades to his treason trial and his death
I didn’t much like my orders when the Council gave them to me. They were the kind of orders that leave a foul taste in the mouth after one has carried them out.
. . .
I said, ‘I am sent by the Council of Archons to invite you to return with me to Athens.’ And my voice sounded wooden in my own ears. The voice of a man who is no actor, speaking lines learned by heart.
‘For what purpose?’ Alkibiades asked politely.
‘To answer to the old charge of blasphemy,’ I said.
. . .
He set down the beautiful wine cup in his hand, ‘Am I under arrest?’
‘No, no. My orders are to request —’ I stumbled over the word as though I were a callow boy — ‘to persuade you, with all respect and courtesy, to return.
No more.’
‘And if, with equal respect and courtesy, I refuse?’
‘I think you would be wiser not to refuse.’
‘In fact, your orders are to bring me back to Athens with as little disturbance as may be; but to bring me, none the less.’
The Wine Shopkeeper is a pawn on the chessboard of history
‘I believe Alexandros the magistrate is still in the city, though lying low with the rest of the Syracuse party? You told me once that he bought his wine from you.’
‘Yes, General, still here, though he keeps to the house as close as any virtuous great lady, these days.’
Alkibiades dropped the purse on to the table beside the tablets. ‘The message is for him.’
I looked at the purse. It looked reasonably full, and it had made a satisfying jingle as he tossed it down. But still — ‘It won’t mean trouble?’ I said.
‘Not for you, not for Alexandros.’ Alkibiades picked up the tablets and sat weighing them in his hand. ‘Give him this from me; and bid him see that it reaches Messana — the Chief Archon — as quickly as possible.’
That rocked me back a bit, and it was a moment before I could find enough tongue to speak.
‘What is it, Demetrios?’
‘Your pardon, Lord, but — he being all for Syracuse, and you being who you are, won’t he be wondering a bit …’
‘Demetrios of the Golden Lily,’ says he, ‘don’t tell me you have not heard why I am being summoned back to Athens? Remind Alexandros that Athens has called me back to stand trial on an old trumped-up blasphemy charge; and I think you’ll find he will not wonder any more.’
The Soldier learning that Alkabiades is recalled to face his trial
It only needed one word from him. One word, and the whole Athenian force would have gone roaring up in revolt. We waited all that night for it to come. I hope Nikias and Lamachus spent a sleepless night; I know we did, feeling the whole of Catana, city and fleet alike, working under us like yeast. And we grew sullen and uneasy as the time of darkness passed and the one word did not come.
. . .
He went on board without once looking back, laughing at something Nikomedes had said. We might not have been there at all. And the last we saw of him, as the Icarus followed the Salamina to sea was a figure in a crocus-purple cloak leaning casually against the after-deck rail, and watching the circling gulls about the masthead.
‘He’ll be back,’ we said, ‘he’s got some plan.’ But we did not quite meet each other’s eyes, and something of the heart was gone out of us.
The Priest meets a god
There have been strange things happen to me, in the thirty years that I have served the Sanctuary of Poseidon here at Thurii.
All men who tend the Sanctuaries of the Great Ones alone and at night have known such things. Strange comings of the spirit, strange sights and shadows in the altar flame, certainties that one has but to turn and look behind one, and the Splendour and the Terror will be there. Once, when I turned so, it was a ewe with her lamb at heel, strayed in from someone’s flock. But there was the one night — the one night when for a space I thought that the Blue Haired One himself had indeed come to me.
. . .
(and on leaving the shrine)
They would not return to me. I was glad to see them go, yet my house felt oddly desolate for their going, as though something bright that had blazed up with their coming, had burned out, leaving a little grey ash over everything; even over my own heart.
The Queen of Sparta falls in love with Alkabiades
Among all the faces of the crowd that beat upon me like a wave, I saw one, blue-eyed under a lion-coloured crest of hair.
Alkibiades, the Athenian. One saw him everywhere, in the gymnasium, about the city, among the men setting out on the hunting trail, coming up from bathing with his wet hair bright in the sun. I had even felt a little sorry for him, thinking what it would be to be cast out by Sparta and driven to help her enemies for the sake of revenge. But indeed both his exile and his revenge seemed to sit so lightly on him that after a while I had ceased to feel sorry.
Yet in that moment I saw him as though for the first time; as though a shadow had fallen from my eyes. I saw the blazing blue of his eyes, reaching out to pierce me, and the laughter at the corner of his mouth; and my fallen hyacinth flower caught into the shoulder knot of his cloak.
The Spartan sides with Alkibiades
Somehow I got the Council summoned again, before noon, and somehow the thing was done. I put Alkibiades’ own arguments to my fellows and after much discussion got the vote for the squadron to sail. Getting Alkibiades back into his appointment was still more difficult; I got to the stage of pointing out that a man’s private morals had nothing to do with his gifts as an admiral or a diplomat — which had little effect. I also suggested that Sparta might be a healthier and more peaceful place for quite a lot of us, if our Athenian friend was out of it — which had rather more.
I got both votes eventually, and sent the order off to Chalcidius (I had previously sent him private word to stand by), and next morning the little fleet slipped out to sea; Alkibiades aboard the flagship and that red-polled pilot of his with him. I made the rather surprising discovery that I should find life less amusing if I were never to see Alkibiades again.
I never have.
The Whore faces death from Alkibiades then loves him forever
‘May we now turn ourselves to pleasure of another kind, from your dancing girls?’ He glanced round as he spoke. And he saw me looking at him before I could look away; before I could guard my face. And his eyes widened on me; they were full of cold blue light between the darkened lids; they held me so that I could not break free but must give him back look for look. And he knew that I had heard and understood the main part of what had passed.
And then Alkibiades said, ‘Give me the services of your flute girl to play me into sleep tonight, for sleep is slower in coming to me, these latter years, than it was when the world was young.’
From the Spartans after the naval battle of Cyicus
From Mindarus' Staff Triarch; to the Government of Sparta
"Our ships are lost; Mindarus is killed; our men are starving; we know not what to do"
Wherever he went Alkibiades could persuade men to do his bidding and if not then he depended on his famous luck.
From alliances, battles, betrayals, love and hate he shone like a star across the skies of Athens, Sparta and Persia until his fall.
Enjoy!
He casts a glamour that comes clean down the centuries, a dazzle of personal magnetism that makes it hard to see the man behind it.
Set in the death struggle between Athens and Sparta Alkibiades directs one Greek city against the other and calls on the Persians to settle a tie.
With such a chameleon like character he cannot be described by only one view point. This novel is written by many people - each seeing the face that Alkibiades chooses to show. We see him through the eyes of;
The Citizen - an Athenean who remains at Athens, an every-man with a lame leg
The Seaman - his pilot and most trusted friend
The Dead - plotters who planned to overthrow a city
The Trirarch - a ship's captain with a unwelcome duty to perform
The Wine Shopkeeper - a small man on the sidelines of history
The Soldier - he nearly died due to Alkibiades treachery, but still a supporter
The Priest - another on the sidelines of history
The Queen - trapped in a loveless marriage to the Spartan King she loves Alkibiades
The King - a true Spartan who cannot love, hates Athens and Alkibiades
The Spartan - an Ephor - the power behind the Spartan King
The Whore - a flute girl who wins the love of Alkibiades
The Rower - an Athenian sailor and supporter
The Citizen on watching Alkibiades lead his fleet into war
As he came opposite to where I stood, he turned his head, and just for a breath of time he looked full at me.
It was not easy to be young, and to watch young men march away to the war that was to gather so much glory (I was still so near to being a boy that war seemed to me a fine and valiant thing) and that passing glance made it no easier. In that moment, if I could have known what waited for our troops in Sicily, I think that with Alkibiades’ blazing blue glance upon me, I would still have asked nothing more of life than to follow him.
Then he was past, and the gold-dust fell from my eyes; and I saw again the empty street between its long hedges of craning people, and the bruise-dark stains of the trampled Adonis flowers. Men broke forward to follow him; some would run at his horse’s heels all the way to Piraeus.
The younger of the two men beside me said, ‘The Gods help him if ever he betrays us.’
And the old man said, ‘And may they help both him and us if ever we betray him.’
The Soldier on the fleet while waiting for Alkibiades to board
Corylas laughed a little uneasily. ‘I was just thinking — you know, this is a subject for Aristophanes to put into a play. Here’s the greatest fighting force Athens has ever sent overseas, setting off with her blessing and — we are told — the blessing of the Gods, under the command of a man with a blasphemy charge hanging over his head.’
I said, ‘I wonder if he knows he’s sailing under death’s shadow.’ I had not known I was going to say that. I had not even thought it, until the moment it was spoken.
The Seaman remembers becoming Alkibiades right hand man
No one less noble or less arrogant than Alkibiades would have been seen drinking with a fisher lad at a public wine booth; and no fisher lad with any sense of the fitness of things would have gone happily, without thought of the honour done him, to drink at a public wine booth with Alkibiades.
I never thought of that until I went home and told my parents what had happened. At first they did not believe me; and when they did, my father, who was of a hopeful disposition, kept telling me that my fortune was made. ‘He’ll be the making of you — the making of you, boy!’
Until my mother, who took a darker view of life, some said as the result of having married my father, said, ‘Or the death of you, if all I hear of that one be true.’
Well, my father has proved right so far, but there’s still time enough for my mother’s turn to come.
The Trirarch was sent to recall Alkibiades to his treason trial and his death
I didn’t much like my orders when the Council gave them to me. They were the kind of orders that leave a foul taste in the mouth after one has carried them out.
. . .
I said, ‘I am sent by the Council of Archons to invite you to return with me to Athens.’ And my voice sounded wooden in my own ears. The voice of a man who is no actor, speaking lines learned by heart.
‘For what purpose?’ Alkibiades asked politely.
‘To answer to the old charge of blasphemy,’ I said.
. . .
He set down the beautiful wine cup in his hand, ‘Am I under arrest?’
‘No, no. My orders are to request —’ I stumbled over the word as though I were a callow boy — ‘to persuade you, with all respect and courtesy, to return.
No more.’
‘And if, with equal respect and courtesy, I refuse?’
‘I think you would be wiser not to refuse.’
‘In fact, your orders are to bring me back to Athens with as little disturbance as may be; but to bring me, none the less.’
The Wine Shopkeeper is a pawn on the chessboard of history
‘I believe Alexandros the magistrate is still in the city, though lying low with the rest of the Syracuse party? You told me once that he bought his wine from you.’
‘Yes, General, still here, though he keeps to the house as close as any virtuous great lady, these days.’
Alkibiades dropped the purse on to the table beside the tablets. ‘The message is for him.’
I looked at the purse. It looked reasonably full, and it had made a satisfying jingle as he tossed it down. But still — ‘It won’t mean trouble?’ I said.
‘Not for you, not for Alexandros.’ Alkibiades picked up the tablets and sat weighing them in his hand. ‘Give him this from me; and bid him see that it reaches Messana — the Chief Archon — as quickly as possible.’
That rocked me back a bit, and it was a moment before I could find enough tongue to speak.
‘What is it, Demetrios?’
‘Your pardon, Lord, but — he being all for Syracuse, and you being who you are, won’t he be wondering a bit …’
‘Demetrios of the Golden Lily,’ says he, ‘don’t tell me you have not heard why I am being summoned back to Athens? Remind Alexandros that Athens has called me back to stand trial on an old trumped-up blasphemy charge; and I think you’ll find he will not wonder any more.’
The Soldier learning that Alkabiades is recalled to face his trial
It only needed one word from him. One word, and the whole Athenian force would have gone roaring up in revolt. We waited all that night for it to come. I hope Nikias and Lamachus spent a sleepless night; I know we did, feeling the whole of Catana, city and fleet alike, working under us like yeast. And we grew sullen and uneasy as the time of darkness passed and the one word did not come.
. . .
He went on board without once looking back, laughing at something Nikomedes had said. We might not have been there at all. And the last we saw of him, as the Icarus followed the Salamina to sea was a figure in a crocus-purple cloak leaning casually against the after-deck rail, and watching the circling gulls about the masthead.
‘He’ll be back,’ we said, ‘he’s got some plan.’ But we did not quite meet each other’s eyes, and something of the heart was gone out of us.
The Priest meets a god
There have been strange things happen to me, in the thirty years that I have served the Sanctuary of Poseidon here at Thurii.
All men who tend the Sanctuaries of the Great Ones alone and at night have known such things. Strange comings of the spirit, strange sights and shadows in the altar flame, certainties that one has but to turn and look behind one, and the Splendour and the Terror will be there. Once, when I turned so, it was a ewe with her lamb at heel, strayed in from someone’s flock. But there was the one night — the one night when for a space I thought that the Blue Haired One himself had indeed come to me.
. . .
(and on leaving the shrine)
They would not return to me. I was glad to see them go, yet my house felt oddly desolate for their going, as though something bright that had blazed up with their coming, had burned out, leaving a little grey ash over everything; even over my own heart.
The Queen of Sparta falls in love with Alkabiades
Among all the faces of the crowd that beat upon me like a wave, I saw one, blue-eyed under a lion-coloured crest of hair.
Alkibiades, the Athenian. One saw him everywhere, in the gymnasium, about the city, among the men setting out on the hunting trail, coming up from bathing with his wet hair bright in the sun. I had even felt a little sorry for him, thinking what it would be to be cast out by Sparta and driven to help her enemies for the sake of revenge. But indeed both his exile and his revenge seemed to sit so lightly on him that after a while I had ceased to feel sorry.
Yet in that moment I saw him as though for the first time; as though a shadow had fallen from my eyes. I saw the blazing blue of his eyes, reaching out to pierce me, and the laughter at the corner of his mouth; and my fallen hyacinth flower caught into the shoulder knot of his cloak.
The Spartan sides with Alkibiades
Somehow I got the Council summoned again, before noon, and somehow the thing was done. I put Alkibiades’ own arguments to my fellows and after much discussion got the vote for the squadron to sail. Getting Alkibiades back into his appointment was still more difficult; I got to the stage of pointing out that a man’s private morals had nothing to do with his gifts as an admiral or a diplomat — which had little effect. I also suggested that Sparta might be a healthier and more peaceful place for quite a lot of us, if our Athenian friend was out of it — which had rather more.
I got both votes eventually, and sent the order off to Chalcidius (I had previously sent him private word to stand by), and next morning the little fleet slipped out to sea; Alkibiades aboard the flagship and that red-polled pilot of his with him. I made the rather surprising discovery that I should find life less amusing if I were never to see Alkibiades again.
I never have.
The Whore faces death from Alkibiades then loves him forever
‘May we now turn ourselves to pleasure of another kind, from your dancing girls?’ He glanced round as he spoke. And he saw me looking at him before I could look away; before I could guard my face. And his eyes widened on me; they were full of cold blue light between the darkened lids; they held me so that I could not break free but must give him back look for look. And he knew that I had heard and understood the main part of what had passed.
And then Alkibiades said, ‘Give me the services of your flute girl to play me into sleep tonight, for sleep is slower in coming to me, these latter years, than it was when the world was young.’
From the Spartans after the naval battle of Cyicus
From Mindarus' Staff Triarch; to the Government of Sparta
"Our ships are lost; Mindarus is killed; our men are starving; we know not what to do"
Wherever he went Alkibiades could persuade men to do his bidding and if not then he depended on his famous luck.
From alliances, battles, betrayals, love and hate he shone like a star across the skies of Athens, Sparta and Persia until his fall.
Enjoy!
Read
February 7, 2021Rouzmeri Satklif je meni do sada bila poznata isključivo kao autorka vrlo lepih i ozbiljno pisanih istorijskih romana za decu (Grimizni ratnik, Prašni bratac, Orao devete legije) koji su bili jednako pouzdano istraženi bilo da se dešavaju negde u bronzano doba, za vreme rimskih osvajanja Britanije ili u Šekspirovo doba. Iz nekog razloga sam očekivala da će i ovo biti za decu ili makar mlađe čitaoce iako Alkibijad uopšte nije osoba pogodna za takav tretman.
Ali Adonisovi cvetovi su vrlo "odrasli" u tom smislu da ima seksa, nasilja & ružnih reči. Takođe u smislu da su likovi kompleksni i da se radnja sporo odvija - povremeno možda presporo za one koji su manje zainteresovani za detalje Peloponeskog rata.
Za prikazivanje tako jedinstvene osobe kao što je Alkibijad autorka je odabrala proverenu metodu - kao pripovedači se smenjuju najrazličitiji likovi koji su došli u dodir sa njim i na čije živote je uticao (najčešće pogubno), dok nam je njegovo stanovište uskraćeno. I to je vrlo mudar izbor jer istovremeno naglašava i njegovu harizmatičnost i suštinsku nedokučivost (ili nas makar pošteđuje toga da Alkibijad bude sveden na plitku, besomučno ambicioznu karikaturu). Drugi i još mudriji izbor jeste da se Sokrat gotovo sve vreme drži u pozadini i da o legendarnoj gozbi saznamo tek ponešto u vidu uličnog trača. Utoliko su upečatljiviji letimični, nemi susret njih dvojice prilikom poslednjeg Alkibijadovog boravka u Atini ili trenutak kad Sokrat odbija zahtev da se zbog pritiska rulje glasa za smrt optuženih admirala (i to je istorijski potvrđen detalj i zbog toga još malčice više volim i Sokrata i Rouzmeri što ga je dodala u knjigu).
Što se ostalog tiče... eh. Posle prvih dvesta strana malo se čovek i zamori od ponavljanja da je a) Alkibijad prelep i preprivlačan i šarmantniji od Kerija Granta b) oličena beskrupulozna ambicija. Sve u svemu, za ovu temu podesnija bi bila neka klasična tragedija nego roman, i nisam zadovoljna činjenicom da ta tragedija postoji, samo je nije pisao Šekspir nego Otvej.
Ali Adonisovi cvetovi su vrlo "odrasli" u tom smislu da ima seksa, nasilja & ružnih reči. Takođe u smislu da su likovi kompleksni i da se radnja sporo odvija - povremeno možda presporo za one koji su manje zainteresovani za detalje Peloponeskog rata.
Za prikazivanje tako jedinstvene osobe kao što je Alkibijad autorka je odabrala proverenu metodu - kao pripovedači se smenjuju najrazličitiji likovi koji su došli u dodir sa njim i na čije živote je uticao (najčešće pogubno), dok nam je njegovo stanovište uskraćeno. I to je vrlo mudar izbor jer istovremeno naglašava i njegovu harizmatičnost i suštinsku nedokučivost (ili nas makar pošteđuje toga da Alkibijad bude sveden na plitku, besomučno ambicioznu karikaturu). Drugi i još mudriji izbor jeste da se Sokrat gotovo sve vreme drži u pozadini i da o legendarnoj gozbi saznamo tek ponešto u vidu uličnog trača. Utoliko su upečatljiviji letimični, nemi susret njih dvojice prilikom poslednjeg Alkibijadovog boravka u Atini ili trenutak kad Sokrat odbija zahtev da se zbog pritiska rulje glasa za smrt optuženih admirala (i to je istorijski potvrđen detalj i zbog toga još malčice više volim i Sokrata i Rouzmeri što ga je dodala u knjigu).
Što se ostalog tiče... eh. Posle prvih dvesta strana malo se čovek i zamori od ponavljanja da je a) Alkibijad prelep i preprivlačan i šarmantniji od Kerija Granta b) oličena beskrupulozna ambicija. Sve u svemu, za ovu temu podesnija bi bila neka klasična tragedija nego roman, i nisam zadovoljna činjenicom da ta tragedija postoji, samo je nije pisao Šekspir nego Otvej.
February 15, 2021
Hmph! 3.5 stars is looking a bit generous for this letdown of a book.
The protagonist being Alcibiades of Athens, I had come to hope for an engrossing novel given what's known of his life from historical sources. A life that was anything but dull or, gods forbid, peaceful and bland. Just read what good old Thucydides had to say about the man in his chronicle of the Peloponnesian War, and you'll be forgiven for expecting a cross between Lucius Sulla and Francis Crawford of Lymond. Yes, I know I'm not the first one to remark on this, but I trust those who read the respective series by mesdames McCullough and Dunnett will get where I'm coming from.
Sadly, Rosemary Sutcliff fell short of the task. We only get glimpses of that brilliant bastard Alcibiades, and always through the eyes of others. I don't believe the choice of first person POV for the narration was necessarily a bad one from the get-go, but what made it bad eventually was the handling and distribution of the narrators. There are just too many narrators instead of just a select few to follow Alcibiades wherever he goes, and there's always more than one narrating in the same chapter. The result is that one narrator, say the Seaman (Alcibiades' pilot and right hand man in the fleet), goes for a few paragraphs and then departs abruptly, giving way for the next narrator, say the Soldier (someone in Alcibiades' troops), or the Citizen, or the Queen, or the Satrap, or the Whore . . . It ends up being so disjointed, as if the narrators are interrupting each other. If Sutcliff wanted several narrators, she could've had them but give each their own chapter and not grouping them tight like sardines in a can. It's not a bad idea to never give the protagonist a POV either (Alcibiades never has one in this novel), but one should be careful to not make the character so distant that he's unrelatable, or that the gushing adoration of the POVs that narrate his comings and goings aren't so repellently biased that they read like fangirling.
The style of storytelling and the writing itself don't do Alcibiades' story justice, either. It doesn't come off as interesting, and the narrators lack a distinctive individual "voice," so there's no polyphony here; all of them sound the same on the page regardless of who the headline on each paragraph break says is speaking, man or woman. That's a very flat characterisation.
The protagonist being Alcibiades of Athens, I had come to hope for an engrossing novel given what's known of his life from historical sources. A life that was anything but dull or, gods forbid, peaceful and bland. Just read what good old Thucydides had to say about the man in his chronicle of the Peloponnesian War, and you'll be forgiven for expecting a cross between Lucius Sulla and Francis Crawford of Lymond. Yes, I know I'm not the first one to remark on this, but I trust those who read the respective series by mesdames McCullough and Dunnett will get where I'm coming from.
Sadly, Rosemary Sutcliff fell short of the task. We only get glimpses of that brilliant bastard Alcibiades, and always through the eyes of others. I don't believe the choice of first person POV for the narration was necessarily a bad one from the get-go, but what made it bad eventually was the handling and distribution of the narrators. There are just too many narrators instead of just a select few to follow Alcibiades wherever he goes, and there's always more than one narrating in the same chapter. The result is that one narrator, say the Seaman (Alcibiades' pilot and right hand man in the fleet), goes for a few paragraphs and then departs abruptly, giving way for the next narrator, say the Soldier (someone in Alcibiades' troops), or the Citizen, or the Queen, or the Satrap, or the Whore . . . It ends up being so disjointed, as if the narrators are interrupting each other. If Sutcliff wanted several narrators, she could've had them but give each their own chapter and not grouping them tight like sardines in a can. It's not a bad idea to never give the protagonist a POV either (Alcibiades never has one in this novel), but one should be careful to not make the character so distant that he's unrelatable, or that the gushing adoration of the POVs that narrate his comings and goings aren't so repellently biased that they read like fangirling.
The style of storytelling and the writing itself don't do Alcibiades' story justice, either. It doesn't come off as interesting, and the narrators lack a distinctive individual "voice," so there's no polyphony here; all of them sound the same on the page regardless of who the headline on each paragraph break says is speaking, man or woman. That's a very flat characterisation.
May 29, 2020
The Flower of Adonis is a fictionalized account of the life of Alkibiades, an Athenian General. In her Author’s note Rosemary Sutcliff describes her protagonist as “an enigma”, going on to remark, “Even allowing that no man is all black and white, few men can ever have been more wildly and magnificently piebald”. Well, that’s one way to put it!
I know some readers have struggled with the multiple narrators and the frequent switching between them, sometimes within the same chapter. Personally, I didn’t find that any barrier to my enjoyment of the book. In fact, I felt it helped to provide insights into the different facets of Alkibiades’ character whether from the point of view of those who were his close companions, those who served with him in a military capacity or those who knew him only as a public figure. What did slightly grate for me was that the narrators continued to be referred to in the section headings by their occupations or status – The Soldier, The Seaman, The Citizen, and so on – even after the reader learns the names of the main ones (Arkadius, Antiochus and Timotheus respectively). I appreciate this may have been an editorial decision for consistency or perhaps it was to emphasise their role as representatives of different strands of society.
I found myself most uncomfortable with the way the sections from the point of view of Timandra, the slave girl who becomes the long-time companion of Alkibiades, are headed ‘The Whore’. Perhaps it’s because I found those sections the most affecting that it rankled so much. If Timandra is ever a ‘whore’ it’s because she was captured and sold into slavery but she is always utterly faithful to Alkibiades. The same cannot be said of him. And as for his treatment of the Spartan Queen…!
The Alkibiades portrayed by Rosemary Sutcliff is indeed an enigmatic figure. He’s bold, resourceful, courageous in battle, a skilful negotiator and an accomplished tactician who inspires devotion in those who serve with him. He’s also mercurial, ruthless, impetuous, easily bored and possesses a supreme belief in his own ability. Of one bold plan, he observes, “It’s a gamble – a glorious gamble, but I can pull it off for you, and there’s not another man who can!”
With promises such as that, to begin with he is viewed as the saviour of an Athens desperate for a victory after a series of defeats. However, as we have seen in modern times, having the hopes of a population riding on you can be a heavy burden and the fall from grace if success is not delivered can be even swifter than the rise. As Timotheus observes sadly at the end of the book, ‘Something that was in Athens when I was a boy will not be there for my sons’. Or in the words of the song, “Don’t it always seem to go, That you don’t know what you’ve got, Till it’s gone’.
I’ll confess that much of the forming and breaking of alliances, the political intrigue and the conquest, loss and often re-conquest of cities and territory left me slightly confused. However, I enjoyed the exciting battle scenes and the wealth of fascinating historical detail about life at that time. Apart from Timandra, my favourite character was Antiochus, Alkibiades’ trusted and loyal right hand man. Alkibiades himself I found intriguing but difficult to like.
The Flowers of Adonis (the title refers to a religious celebration that features at the beginning of the book and is cleverly echoed at its moving ending) is an accomplished piece of historical fiction by a writer who knew how to bring the past alive. Reading the book reminded me I have Rosemary Sutcliff partly to thank for my enduring love of historical fiction.
I know some readers have struggled with the multiple narrators and the frequent switching between them, sometimes within the same chapter. Personally, I didn’t find that any barrier to my enjoyment of the book. In fact, I felt it helped to provide insights into the different facets of Alkibiades’ character whether from the point of view of those who were his close companions, those who served with him in a military capacity or those who knew him only as a public figure. What did slightly grate for me was that the narrators continued to be referred to in the section headings by their occupations or status – The Soldier, The Seaman, The Citizen, and so on – even after the reader learns the names of the main ones (Arkadius, Antiochus and Timotheus respectively). I appreciate this may have been an editorial decision for consistency or perhaps it was to emphasise their role as representatives of different strands of society.
I found myself most uncomfortable with the way the sections from the point of view of Timandra, the slave girl who becomes the long-time companion of Alkibiades, are headed ‘The Whore’. Perhaps it’s because I found those sections the most affecting that it rankled so much. If Timandra is ever a ‘whore’ it’s because she was captured and sold into slavery but she is always utterly faithful to Alkibiades. The same cannot be said of him. And as for his treatment of the Spartan Queen…!
The Alkibiades portrayed by Rosemary Sutcliff is indeed an enigmatic figure. He’s bold, resourceful, courageous in battle, a skilful negotiator and an accomplished tactician who inspires devotion in those who serve with him. He’s also mercurial, ruthless, impetuous, easily bored and possesses a supreme belief in his own ability. Of one bold plan, he observes, “It’s a gamble – a glorious gamble, but I can pull it off for you, and there’s not another man who can!”
With promises such as that, to begin with he is viewed as the saviour of an Athens desperate for a victory after a series of defeats. However, as we have seen in modern times, having the hopes of a population riding on you can be a heavy burden and the fall from grace if success is not delivered can be even swifter than the rise. As Timotheus observes sadly at the end of the book, ‘Something that was in Athens when I was a boy will not be there for my sons’. Or in the words of the song, “Don’t it always seem to go, That you don’t know what you’ve got, Till it’s gone’.
I’ll confess that much of the forming and breaking of alliances, the political intrigue and the conquest, loss and often re-conquest of cities and territory left me slightly confused. However, I enjoyed the exciting battle scenes and the wealth of fascinating historical detail about life at that time. Apart from Timandra, my favourite character was Antiochus, Alkibiades’ trusted and loyal right hand man. Alkibiades himself I found intriguing but difficult to like.
The Flowers of Adonis (the title refers to a religious celebration that features at the beginning of the book and is cleverly echoed at its moving ending) is an accomplished piece of historical fiction by a writer who knew how to bring the past alive. Reading the book reminded me I have Rosemary Sutcliff partly to thank for my enduring love of historical fiction.
October 5, 2017
One of her few books for adults - I read a number of her children's books when I was young - and I do wish she'd written more. Based on thorough research, she applies such wonderful imagination that you feel you are immersed in and understand the period, the cultures, the people, politics and motivations. This is the story of Alcibiades - something of a renegade Athenian - and it makes me want to re-read Thucydides 'The Peloponnesian Wars' (in translation!).
May 28, 2016
They don't write books like this any more. (I'm not even sure they wrote books like this then.) Recommended if you can deal with the style (Sutcliff is Sutcliff, whether she's tackling Roman Britain or golden age Greece.) Although there were a few places where I winced (any sexy moments, mostly), it's rapturous, visceral writing that takes you nose-down into the landscape and I liked it a lot.
(Also, Alcibiades = Lymond. No question.)
(Also, Alcibiades = Lymond. No question.)
Want to read
July 9, 2019just discovered Sutcliff wrote an Alcibiades book and I'm feeling great about life
June 12, 2013
I read this when in my teens. I remember thinking what a great story it tells. The switching I found easy to keep up with so may be an individuals problem rather than a real issue.
Severely recommend this book
Severely recommend this book
April 6, 2010
The story of Alcibiades. There areb't many of those. I absolutely adored this book when I read it many years ago.
August 22, 2013
I found this difficult at first as I was used to Rosemary Sutcliff as a writer for children.
Once I got used to that I thoroughly enjoyed the book - as I enjoy Mary Renault
Once I got used to that I thoroughly enjoyed the book - as I enjoy Mary Renault
Read
March 28, 2014A book you could put down - frequently! Nevertheless, I now have a lot clearer perspective of the Peloponnesian wars.
July 27, 2020
This is probably the best of the sparing novels that exist about Alcibiades. The first half was fine but I was more interested in the second half which formed a more sympathetic portrayal of him. I know the man was divisive and not a pillar of goodness by any means but as far as historical figures go, I love him! Shoot me! I enjoy reading more nuanced takes of who he was than 'he was a traitor. the end'.
Unlike some other books, the historical detail and accuracy were pretty dang good. There was never a moment when something so completely incorrect or anachronistic happened that it threw me out of the story. Fictional liberties are a-ok. I liked this take on Timandra too and found it quite nice and sentimental at times. Right towards the end, when he relents and watches the festival with her, heading down there with held hands. That got me!
I wish there were more stories and novels about this man, and I sure wish the majority weren't written from the perspective of people in Alcibiades circle (instead of from his own pov) but I'm glad Sutcliff wrote this and I'm glad I read it.
Unlike some other books, the historical detail and accuracy were pretty dang good. There was never a moment when something so completely incorrect or anachronistic happened that it threw me out of the story. Fictional liberties are a-ok. I liked this take on Timandra too and found it quite nice and sentimental at times. Right towards the end, when he relents and watches the festival with her, heading down there with held hands. That got me!
I wish there were more stories and novels about this man, and I sure wish the majority weren't written from the perspective of people in Alcibiades circle (instead of from his own pov) but I'm glad Sutcliff wrote this and I'm glad I read it.
June 17, 2023
This is one of the very best historical novels that I have ever read about Ancient Greece. Centred around the career of Alkibiades at the end of the fifth century BCE from the disastrous Sicilian Campaign, the book takes the voices of many characters who met with this astonishing man. He was clearly too outstanding for the suspicious Athenian public and his unimaginative rivals. His varied fortunes both at Sparta and again with the Athenian navy and under a Persian satrap are brilliantly described with authentic detail.
Anyone interested in the final collapse of Athens will learn much from this really engaging novel, which is of course beautifully written.
Anyone interested in the final collapse of Athens will learn much from this really engaging novel, which is of course beautifully written.
August 6, 2019
As a kid, I read as many Rosemary Sutcliff books that I could find. I was thrilled to run across this one at a used book sale since I hadn't read it before. Great story and characters, even more compelling as the basics are true. I especially liked the different viewpoints, rounding out the main character Alkibiades.
September 15, 2020
This book surprised me. I thought it was just okay for the first half or so, and the device of different narrators for each chapter flirted with becoming annoying. But then you started knowing those different characters as the narrators reoccurred and it drew you in. In the end it is as magnificent a portrait of the complex character that was Alkibiades as I have seen.
July 27, 2017
Based on the life of Alcibiades (born 450 B.C. died 404 B.C.).
Fails the Bechdel test.
(The Bechdel test asks if a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. The requirement that the two women must be named is sometimes added.)
Fails the Bechdel test.
(The Bechdel test asks if a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. The requirement that the two women must be named is sometimes added.)
February 8, 2018
Certainly a book of another time about another time...I found it slow in some spots and ate through other spots. I do enjoy Sutcliffe's writing. I really didn't mind the multiple-narrators trope. I found it bleak and vivid and tragic, which was probs Sutcliffe's goal.
June 10, 2020
I wanted to really love a novel about Alkibiades but I feel like the number of narrators and focus on politics over characters made it feel a bit distant.
March 28, 2023
Excellent story! I loved how she used the device of telling the story through the various viewpoints of many people; very effective!
The ending was so sad, though. Beautiful but sad.
The ending was so sad, though. Beautiful but sad.
March 10, 2024
Well written, real page turner
did-not-finish
January 16, 2025I usually like Rosemary Sutcliff, but I could not get into this story.
October 7, 2025
Thank you Internet Archive for having this book and making it available.
April 22, 2020
I wasn't bothered by the perspectives and actually found them interesting. Lots of history and good sense of atmosphere. Fascinating time period.
November 15, 2025
Good history book for young girls. I loved Sutcliff's historical novels as a child and young teenager, she was one of my favourite authors. I am not going review them all individually because all her books are good. If your looking for children's historical novels, just start at the beginning of her books and read them all. This is how I learned British history.
June 2, 2012
This one is very different from her other novels. The switching view points make this rather hard to read but it is worth it in the end. It is very sad.
April 6, 2015
I had forgotten that I had read this many years ago as a child.
I had also forgotten that the swapping of the narrative viewpoint had annoyed the hell out of me even then.
I had also forgotten that the swapping of the narrative viewpoint had annoyed the hell out of me even then.
June 16, 2020
Set in ancient Greece, about the brilliant but erratic Athenian general Alkibiades and the Peloponnesian War.
Read
January 8, 2018I promised to write proper reviews for things this year, so I'll try and do so, but I read this book in a somewhat disjointed way over several days, the bulk of it on a very long train journey from Glasgow to London. I've been travelling since around lunchtime and it's now 10pm, so I'm not at my most coherent, and this might not make a whole lot of sense as a result.
First of all, I found this book quite hardgoing. I don't think it was all that long in terms of page count, but it took me a fair while to read (I think my Kindle estimated more than three and a half hours), which is unusual for me. Partly, that was because it's quite dense and detailed. There are a lot of politics, which I didn't always follow, not least because everyone has complicated Greek names. I mean, I definitely know more about how Athens functioned than I did when I started, so I've learned something, but while the level of historical detail was admirable, it didn't make it a particularly easy read. Despite the details, it was fast paced enough that if I skimmed I ended up missing things, which also slowed me down.
The shifts in POV also confused me, especially earlier in the book, where there were new ones on a fairly regular basis and it wasn't always easy to tell who was who. It caught me by surprise: I read the first chapter and thought I knew what kind of story I'd be getting, but then the perspective shifted and I realised I'd been wrong. It grew on me as a stylistic choice, and it worked, overall, but it did make the book harder to get into. I also wasn't very keen on the non-standard grammar Sutcliff used for "the Seaman" because it didn't seem all that necessary and wasn't always consistent enough to create a distinct voice, as I think it was intended to.
However, those things aside, I did enjoy the book. I found myself getting surprisingly invested in characters who didn't immediately interest me. Although I might have wished there were more women in the book who weren't prostitutes or similar, I can't deny that the complexity of their emotions struck me: the fine line between love and hate creating much more interesting passions than just devotion. They may have been slightly sidelined from the plot, but they weren't sidelined from the feelings at all; there were several heart-wrenching moments near the end. These were also due to the writing quality -- not all of Sutcliff's stylistic choices were to my taste, but her use of symbolism and imagery, particularly with regard to the recurring religious rituals throughout the book, was undeniably effective and evocative.
I had hoped, because this book is by Rosemary Sutcliff, that it would be at least ambiguously gay (since all her books are, really), and it was, though not in the way I'd expected. I'd looked up Alkibiades before I started and assumed from the Wikipedia page that he'd be at least a little bit gay with Socrates, but the story actually starts some time after their association. (Not that there wasn't any hint of homoeroticism about their relationship; it was outright discussed in an early chapter.) There was actually a canonical m/m relationship, which isn't something I've seen in Sutcliff's children's books but which I understand features in some of her other adult novels; it didn't involve Alkibiades, who emphasises on several occasions -- Socrates notwithstanding -- that he's into women. But while it didn't take the form I expected, it was still nice to see some LGBTQ representation in an older book like this. (Published in 1969, after all.) And given the setting, it would be narrow-minded to omit it. So I liked that, even if I wished it could have been a larger part of the plot.
Overall, I think my main response to this book is that it didn't do what I expected. I kept thinking I knew where it was going: with the narrative structure, with the plot itself, with the various relationships involved. And I was rarely right. At times that was frustrating, I guess; I was expecting the things I most wanted to see. But it kept me reading, and the book ended with a gut-punch of emotions that had me tearing up. (On a train. Where I would've looked like a total weirdo if I randomly started crying.)
It wasn't an easy read, and I found myself getting bogged down in some of the historical details, but I still enjoyed this quite a lot, and kept picking it back up again even though my reading was so disjointed that it wouldn't have been hard to put it down and get distracted.
First of all, I found this book quite hardgoing. I don't think it was all that long in terms of page count, but it took me a fair while to read (I think my Kindle estimated more than three and a half hours), which is unusual for me. Partly, that was because it's quite dense and detailed. There are a lot of politics, which I didn't always follow, not least because everyone has complicated Greek names. I mean, I definitely know more about how Athens functioned than I did when I started, so I've learned something, but while the level of historical detail was admirable, it didn't make it a particularly easy read. Despite the details, it was fast paced enough that if I skimmed I ended up missing things, which also slowed me down.
The shifts in POV also confused me, especially earlier in the book, where there were new ones on a fairly regular basis and it wasn't always easy to tell who was who. It caught me by surprise: I read the first chapter and thought I knew what kind of story I'd be getting, but then the perspective shifted and I realised I'd been wrong. It grew on me as a stylistic choice, and it worked, overall, but it did make the book harder to get into. I also wasn't very keen on the non-standard grammar Sutcliff used for "the Seaman" because it didn't seem all that necessary and wasn't always consistent enough to create a distinct voice, as I think it was intended to.
However, those things aside, I did enjoy the book. I found myself getting surprisingly invested in characters who didn't immediately interest me. Although I might have wished there were more women in the book who weren't prostitutes or similar, I can't deny that the complexity of their emotions struck me: the fine line between love and hate creating much more interesting passions than just devotion. They may have been slightly sidelined from the plot, but they weren't sidelined from the feelings at all; there were several heart-wrenching moments near the end. These were also due to the writing quality -- not all of Sutcliff's stylistic choices were to my taste, but her use of symbolism and imagery, particularly with regard to the recurring religious rituals throughout the book, was undeniably effective and evocative.
I had hoped, because this book is by Rosemary Sutcliff, that it would be at least ambiguously gay (since all her books are, really), and it was, though not in the way I'd expected. I'd looked up Alkibiades before I started and assumed from the Wikipedia page that he'd be at least a little bit gay with Socrates, but the story actually starts some time after their association. (Not that there wasn't any hint of homoeroticism about their relationship; it was outright discussed in an early chapter.) There was actually a canonical m/m relationship, which isn't something I've seen in Sutcliff's children's books but which I understand features in some of her other adult novels; it didn't involve Alkibiades, who emphasises on several occasions -- Socrates notwithstanding -- that he's into women. But while it didn't take the form I expected, it was still nice to see some LGBTQ representation in an older book like this. (Published in 1969, after all.) And given the setting, it would be narrow-minded to omit it. So I liked that, even if I wished it could have been a larger part of the plot.
Overall, I think my main response to this book is that it didn't do what I expected. I kept thinking I knew where it was going: with the narrative structure, with the plot itself, with the various relationships involved. And I was rarely right. At times that was frustrating, I guess; I was expecting the things I most wanted to see. But it kept me reading, and the book ended with a gut-punch of emotions that had me tearing up. (On a train. Where I would've looked like a total weirdo if I randomly started crying.)
It wasn't an easy read, and I found myself getting bogged down in some of the historical details, but I still enjoyed this quite a lot, and kept picking it back up again even though my reading was so disjointed that it wouldn't have been hard to put it down and get distracted.
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