Wilkie Collins (1824-1889) was an early master of mystery and suspense, writing such classics as The Moonstone, The Woman in White, and Basil. Antonina, or, The Fall of Rome was his first published novel, a colorful tale of ancient Rome. Of this work, Collins wrote: "To the fictitious characters alone is committed the task of representing the spirit of the age. The Roman emperor, Honorius, and the Gothic king, Alaric, mix but little personally in the business of the story-only appearing in such events, and acting under such circumstances, as the records of history strictly authorize-but exact truth in respect to time, place, and circumstance is observed in every historical event introduced in the plot, from the period of the march of the Gothic invaders over the Alps to the close of the first barbarian blockade of Rome."
Wilkie Collins was an English novelist and playwright, best known for The Woman in White (1860), an early sensation novel, and The Moonstone (1868), a pioneering work of detective fiction. Born to landscape painter William Collins and Harriet Geddes, he spent part of his childhood in Italy and France, learning both languages. Initially working as a tea merchant, he later studied law, though he never practiced. His literary career began with Antonina (1850), and a meeting with Charles Dickens in 1851 proved pivotal. The two became close friends and collaborators, with Collins contributing to Dickens' journals and co-writing dramatic works. Collins' success peaked in the 1860s with novels that combined suspense with social critique, including No Name (1862), Armadale (1864), and The Moonstone, which established key elements of the modern detective story. His personal life was unconventional—he openly opposed marriage and lived with Caroline Graves and her daughter for much of his life, while also maintaining a separate relationship with Martha Rudd, with whom he had three children. Plagued by gout, Collins became addicted to laudanum, which affected both his health and later works. Despite declining quality in his writing, he remained a respected figure, mentoring younger authors and advocating for writers' rights. He died in 1889 and was buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. His legacy endures through his influential novels, which laid the groundwork for both sensation fiction and detective literature.
Although I acknowledge that Wilkie Collins was a literary master, in particular as someone who would create the tropes for the "sensational" detective novel (or "thrillers" in the current, post modern parlance), Antonina falls short of such estimable heights. I offer the example of watching Usain Bolt as a toddler, struggling to take his first steps when destined to be a world-class runner.
Here, in Antonina, we have Collins' first published novel, a historical fiction piece that is so filled with parenthetical interruptions that it feels amateurish. "I'm going to tell you about this scene now," before actually describing the scene. The story itself is really pretty good except for the parentheticals which add about 200 pages to the book. There are some mesmerizing and gripping scenes where the reader can begin to feel what would later become one of Collins' well-honed skills of keeping an audience enrapt.
There are Christians and Goths and the Fall of Rome, but there are also some fascinating characters that pluck at your heartstrings. There is a bit of a love story although I would not call it a romance. This is a unique story with some suspense and intrigue, but impeded by watching a toddler crawl. Because of the ineffective storytelling device, I will not call this a classic; however, it is a literary curiosity. Do with that what you will. I will probably never re-read it.
ENGLISH: The year is 410. The occasion, the sack of Rome by Goths commanded by Alaric. The historical details are a bit strained, because the sack took place during Alaric's third attack on Rome, not the first, two years earlier, as the novel implies, when it indicates that the reason for the Visigoth invasion was the massacre of Goth wives and children ordered in 408 by the Emperor Honorius.
This historical novel by Wilkie Collins is an anti-Christian pamphlet, surely influenced by Gibbon's theories, which held that the triumph of Christianity was the cause of the fall of the Roman Empire. Collins may have been equally influenced by the anti-Catholic black legend spread by the Anglican Church to justify its separation from Rome, a black legend that was discredited when John Henry Newman studied the writings of the Church Fathers and came to the conclusion that the Catholic Church was closer to them than the Anglican Church, which prompted him to convert to Catholicism.
When he speaks of Christian priests in the 4th century, Collins paints them as ambitious, prodigal and frivolous. Early Christians are shown as enemies of love, liberty, and pleasure, poetry, painting, and music... All of which just proves Collins's ignorance about the history of the first four centuries of Christianity.
Antonina is a teenager whose neighbour, a lascivious senator, is infatuated with her and manages to get into her bedroom, where he is found by Antonina's father, who, believing his daughter guilty, throws her from the house. Antonina flees and takes refuge in the camp that Alaric is setting up to lay siege to Rome, where a Goth (Hermanric) protects and defends her from his sister-in-law, who wants to kill her.
At the beginning of the book, Antonina's greatest charm is the little she speaks, but as soon as she arrives at the Goth camp she starts to talk non-stop, contrary to her character, telling Hermanric things that the reader already knows or can easily suspect. As a result, the style of the novel is flawed, and the plot tendentious. I did not like it. This book cannot be compared to others by the same author, such as The Queen of Hearts or The Woman in White. I couldn't finish this book.
ESPAÑOL: El año es el 410. La ocasión, el saqueo de Roma por los godos de Alarico. Los datos históricos están un poco forzados, porque dicho saqueo tuvo lugar en el tercer ataque de Alarico contra Roma, no en el primero, dos años antes, como da a entender la novela, al señalar como causa de la invasión visigoda la matanza de esposas e hijos de godos ordenada por el Emperador Honorio en el año 408.
Esta novela histórica de Wilkie Collins es un panfleto anticristiano, que seguramente fue influido por las teorías de Gibbon, que sostuvo que el triunfo del cristianismo fue la causa de la caída del Imperio Romano. Collins puede haber sido influido igualmente por la leyenda negra anticatólica extendida por la Iglesia Anglicana para justificar su separación de Roma, leyenda que quedó desacreditada cuando John Henry Newman estudió los escritos de los Padres de la Iglesia y llegó a la conclusión de que la Iglesia Católica está más cerca de ellos que la Anglicana, lo que le impulsó a convertirse al catolicismo.
Al hablar sobre los sacerdotes cristianos del siglo IV, Collins los pinta como ambiciosos, pródigos y frívolos. A los cristianos primitivos los describe como enemigos del amor, la libertad y el placer, la poesía, la pintura y la música... Todo lo cual demuestra simplemente la ignorancia de Collins respecto a la historia de los cuatro primeros siglos del cristianismo.
Antonina es una adolescente de la que se encapricha su vecino, un senador lascivo, que logra introducirse en su dormitorio, donde le encuentra el padre de Antonina, que creyendo culpable a su hija, la echa de casa. Antonina huye y se refugia en el campamento que está montando Alarico para poner sitio a Roma, donde un godo (Hermanric) la protege y la defiende de su cuñada, que quiere asesinarla.
Al principio de la novela, el mayor encanto de Antonina es su laconismo, pero en cuanto llega al campamento godo empieza a hablar por los codos, en contra de su carácter, contándole a Hermanric cosas que el lector ya conoce o que puede sospechar sin dificultad. En consecuencia, el estilo de la novela es flojo, y el argumento tendencioso. No me ha gustado. Este libro no puede compararse con otros del mismo autor, como La reina de corazones o La dama de blanco. No he podido terminar este libro.
This is Wilkie Collins' first published novel, and it definitely shows. I am generally a fan of the expansiveness of Victorian prose, and of the tendency of Victorian narrators to break the fourth wall and address the reader directly. I find both things charming. But "discursive" doesn't begin to cover it when it comes to Collins' self-conscious and very long apostrophes to his reader, often merely for the purpose of moving from one setting to another. He rarely uses less than a page where a sentence (or nothing at all) would do. In fact, this was so noticeable that I checked to see whether "Antonina" was originally published in parts, or for a magazine, either of which might lead to - though not completely excuse - padding towards a word count. Not so, however - Antonina was published in volume form from the beginning. So all there is to see here is the growing pains of a young author; apparently he had yet to meet his highly influential mentor, Dickens.
Antonina, or the Fall of Rome is a historical novel set in an era most people are unfamiliar with, I should think, namely the early 5th century, when the Goths led, and the Huns participated in, the siege and eventual sacking of Rome. For the purposes of his novel, Collins has simplified the exceedingly complicated series of multiple sieges and battles, not to mention dramatic shifts in loyalties and alliances, down to one very long siege and its outcome. He has principal characters on both sides of the conflict; furthermore, he sets up a very deliberate contrast and conflict between extremist representatives of the Christian religion (by this point dominant) and the declining pagan religion. The conflict is centred in two men, one of them the rather oppressive father of the title young lady. There is an entirely incredible (and in my view unnecessary) coincidence about these two men introduced towards the end of the plot.
Madness is a primary motif of this work. Almost none of the primary characters make it through without having some sort of breakdown, but two of the principals - Goisvintha and Ulpius - are essentially mad for a large part of the novel. Goisvintha is a Goth woman whose husband and children have been murdered by the Romans; she exists primarily as a threat to Antonina to whose death she manages to attach an entirely disproportionate urgency as a symbol of her revenge on the entire Roman people. She is also more or less directly responsible for the death of her own brother, Hermanric, who has the poor taste to become romantically attached to Antonina for a very brief and idyllic period. Ulpius is a pagan priest, also a threat to Antonina (we are first introduced to him pretending to be a Christian acolyte of her father Numerian); Ulpius has already seen the defeat of his religion in Alexandria and ends up dementedly occupying a deserted temple, where he carries out human sacrifices with a hidden "mechanism" over the river, and also builds up a monumental pile of idols in it.
Antonina herself is more or less a cipher as a character; she loves music (against her father's instructions); she's naive and obedient; she very nearly dies of famine, but survives. This book doesn't really qualify as a romance, despite the Hermanric/Antonina episode in the middle of it. There is one alternate suitor, a somewhat older aristocratic Roman named Vetranio; he attempts to seduce/rape Antonina near the beginning, and his remorseful conversion from his pleasure-loving ways to sober country living (and support of, but not pursuit of, Antonina) forms the last few chapters after all the excitement of violent deaths in the temple - the real climax of the novel - is over.
Vetranio has one of the set-pieces of the novel: the feast of death, where he and a number of other degenerate friends have a banquet (without any food, more or less) with a corpse standing guard over the table, and with the intent of drinking/drugging their already weakened selves to death. The descriptions of this scene and the temple scene are the most heightened in the book - this is the beginning of Collins' reputation as a sensationalist writer.
If you're going to read one Wilkie Collins novel in your life, this definitely shouldn't be it (go for The Moonstone or The Woman in White), but as a diversion, despite its longueurs, it wasn't bad.
Not uncommon for its period, Antonina is a work of highs and lows, the lows too many and too irritating for me to recommend it.
Collins is inclined to waffle. This comes out at the beginning in which he tells us that he has no intention of dwelling upon the history and environment of the falling Rome around which the work is set beyond what his story requires. However, while he rambled on about not doing it, he may as well have done it. It would have been more colourful. These rambling asides feel like padding, and by half-way through the book I felt that I'd read way too much to justify the story so far, much of it really not worth reading.
Then there's the drama. Oh! My darlings! The drama! I weep to recall it! At first, our heroine is placed in such a lamentable position by her father Numerian in his religious zealotry; her would-be seducer the wealthy Vetranio; and the scheming servant Ulpius, that I found myself shuffling in my seat with all the discomfort piling on. It was all-too painful, and felt like kitten-kicking. However, acquaintance with Antonina didn't last long before I felt like kicking her myself. Classically pathetic in her situation, she was colloquially pathetic in her response. Had she had a little gumption at least she'd have held my sympathy, but as the pure victim she was characterless, a mere cipher, a plot device.
To some extent, the circumstances arise from the character herself. A comely wench, we assume, given half the blokes who come into contact with her either start lusting or go romantically woozy, she is - nonetheless - sheltered and, moreover, only fourteen. The problem is, of course, that the modern reader will tend to ignore this fact and visualise a woman in her late teens at the youngest for comfort's sake, (who really reads Shakespeare remembering Juliet is a thirteen-year old?) In a child the weakness may be forgiven, but we tend to forget she is only a child. He could have made her a twenty-one-year old widow or something and still been there with the historical accuracy. Maybe then she'd have had a little more to her than the pinball we end up with, bouncing around at the behest of everyone she bumps into.
Then there are the too-convenient shifts in character of Vetranio and Numerian when she descends. The first turns instantly from selfish, scheming, life-long narcissist to regretful penitent, the second from religious nut to doting father. Oh! The regret! Daft pillocks. More careful plotting on the part of Collins and somewhat more depth of character might have introduced the same story arc without such preposterous character-flipping.
Ironically, if melodrama damns the work, it also provides it with some of its redeeming features with some darkly delightful grotesquerie. Ulpius as the maddened pagan high priest sequestered in his temple is overblown to good effect, while the 'special guest' at Vetranio's suicidal banquet shows Collins to have a truly warped mind for which he is to be congratulated. Other parts of the novel tick along nicely in the absence of Antonia and Collins' pointless expositions, but it's not enough to rescue the work that it provides such alleviation from the repetitive irritation.
A novel which presents a damsel in distress as the eponymous character who the reader wants to drop dead at the earliest possible opportunity is not a successful novel. Sorry, Wilkie. You should have left the shedload of saccharine and stuck with the grotesque.
A book about the siege of Rome by Alaric. Of some historical interest, especially the clash between Paganism and Christianity. The fact that two brothers were the chief antagonists in this clash wasn’t very realistic. The ending wasn’t very good…the story just kind of drifted to a conclusion. Not as good as Woman In White or Moonstone.
A gorgeously written book that you should read just for the language, words, turn of phrases. It has a few breathtaking scenes described in a truly evocative way. Insights into human behaviours that you will see the same 150 years later, and he managed to subvert my expectations many times. There are two downsides I can think of - literally everyone is insane (which is kinda ok in a melodrama and perhaps the point), and the bigger issue I have is with SPOILERS Numerian - a huge effing narcissist whose daughter Antonina caters to him even when she has it worst, yet somehow he is made out to be a good guy...
This novel was far better than I thought it would be based on the reviews. It is not Wilkie Collins' best effort but there are many things he does well in this novel. He sets the scene of each chapter very well. He does a good job describing things and placing the reader in the time and place of ancient Rome. The first third of the novel is adventurous and held my attention. When Rome is under siege by the Goths, Collins does a good job describing the agony of famine and describing the debauchery of ancient Rome.
With all the positives,there are some negatives as well. Collins has a tendency of being wordy, but in a good way; this novel was wordy in a negative way: very reminiscent of Charles Dickens. Some of the later chapters just went on and on for no reason in my opinion. There were two small things which, although minor, points to a lack of attention to detail. One of these being corn as described as one of the items in short supply in Rome (none would be available in the old world at this time). The other being that Antonina's father's garden is described as being behind the house but connected to Senator Vetranio's gardens; later in the book, Antonina's father's house is described as being on the opposite side of the street as Vetranio's palace which in a three dimensional universe would be impossible.
There is no happy ending to this story. The best that can be said is that the evil doers are punished in the end. I anticipated the application of music to bring life back to Antonina at the end of the story but Wilkie Collins doesn't seem to remember the drawn out description of Antonina's affection for music earlier in the story.
The organization and structure of this novel, in addition to the subject matter, are very much different than any other Wilkie Collins novel I have read. The title of the novel is very appropriate, however Collins doesn't explain adequately why Antonina is so revered by all who meet her. She is not incredibly intelligent and she has led a very sheltered life of only 14 years; she was not described as being incredibly beautiful and yet, several men far older than she, fall in love with her. To me, she didn't have a lot to offer; therefore, Collins fails in describing her allure.
El libro me ha parecido un auténtico truño. Repetitivo, cansino, demasiado extenso para describirlo todo. Previsible, aquí muere hasta el apuntador.
Es cierto que fue escrito en una época donde no había otros entretenimientos para el común de los mortales (algo se me ha contagiado del estilo) y la lectura contribuía a distraer de alguna manera a la gente. Tuve que leerlo porque ya había empezado y desechado otros dos y no quería que este fuese el tercero, además que no había leído nada de Wilkie Collins y sentía curiosidad por la obra de este autor. Escrito cuando apenas tenía 26 años, da la impresión de ser narrada por un viejo. Me pregunto si el editor llegó a leer el manuscrito original o se lo dejó a un becario que también pasó de leerlo. Vetranio en su "primera etapa" me recordó al Miles Gloriosus de Plauto. Antonina es la cieguita Adelaida de Les Luthiers. Ulpio con un brazo destrozado a renglón seguido lo veo curado un par de páginas más adelante. Un asedio por parte de los Godos, con las inevitables consecuencias de hambre, pillaje, peste... pero se cura a pesar de todo eso y lo vemos mas fuerte que al principio. En fin, no quiero seguir porque no se debe hablar mal de los muertos pero… tenía que hacerlo.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
“Antonina, ovvero la caduta di Roma” è il primo romanzo col quale Wilkie Collins si affaccia sulla scena letteraria londinese. In seguito conosciuto come il padre del genere giallo, in questo caso Collins si confronta con una tipologia letteraria completamente diversa, ovvero quella del romanzo storico.
La narrazione, infatti, è ambientata nell’antica Roma, nel 408 d.C. Come si può intuire dal titolo, fulcro dell’attenzione dell’autore dovrebbero essere le vicende della giovane Antonina, cresciuta da un padre austero e deciso a rendere la figlia il simbolo più alto e puro della sua volontà di riformare la Chiesa cattolica, che – già all’epoca – era sconvolta al suo interno da accese dispute dottrinarie.
Remarkable story concealed within florid overwriting.
This is a remarkable novel and it amazes me no film adaptation was made of it. We're it not for the unpardonable verbosity that Wilkie indulges in telling this dramatic tale, I would have given it 5 stars. It is his strangest work, both the worst and in some ways the best.
A book of two halves - on the one side you have some great descriptive scenes and some relatively interesting characters but then on the other you have some of the most melodramatic and flowery writing I have ever read and a heroine whose sole purpose is to tremble, faint and sob (which she does at least once every page or so) which makes this novel rather a chore to work through.
This was a slow book to begin with and I believe this is why it took me so long to read. Collins goes into detail about the characters life’s and even into Rome itself. The story picks up about half way through and I enjoyed the writing style.
Menudo despropósito de novela. Ya sabía lo que me encontraría por lo tanto no me ha sorprendido pero tenemos que dar gracias a Dios porque Wilkie Collins decidiese escribir novela policiaca y no histórica ya que no es su fuerte.
I wish I could be more complimentary about this Early Collins. Some of the characteristics of his later masterpieces (The Woman in White and The Moonstone) are there, e.g. the varying points of view, the vivid use of descriptions of light or sound as an important element in drama, and an unabashed love of the Gothic.
But Goth of Gothic, this is overwrought stuff, feebly plotted, slow-paced with much less of the three dimensional richness of his later characters or well-conceived plots. Pretty much everyone in the book is hysterical, Rome is about to fall to the Goths and one wishes that Alaric would just get on with it.
The 'romantic' hero, a maverick Goth who falls in love with Antonina at the drop of a sword, is woefully wooden and mute, Antonina herself a sort of misplaced Victorian maiden swooning and smiling depending on which five minutes the clock is on, and the vicious and much-aggrieved Goth widow pretty unsympathetic.
The two Huns provide much-needed comic relief. One could recast the book with them as the leads, a sort of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern for Victorian lit fans.
A hard book to read and took much longer than I am used to to finish a book.
It wasn't a terrible book and considering it was his debut it was a great attempt. That being said I found it very drawn out and at times tedious to read. Collins is great at setting a scene and uses wonderfully discriptive narrative, but at times simply wasn't necessary.
The thing I found most disappointing and ironic is that the lead character (Antonina, of course) was probably the weakest character in the book. I couldn't connect with her character and really couldn't have cared less for her. That made liking this book a tall order for me. Sorry Mr Wilkie.
This was Wilkie Collins first novel. The setting is early 5th century Rome. The Goths, led by Alaric, are at the gates and have blockaded the city. Our heroine Antonina, a very young Roman maiden, flees her father and an amorous patrician neighbor, into the arms of a young, handsome, gentle, sympathetic Goth. I appreciated the conflicts: robust Goths vs degenerate Romans, old Pagan religion vs up-and-coming Christianity, youth and tolerance vs age and rigidity. It was quite a good read, though it did tend to go on and on.
Wilkie Collins è un maestro del giallo e del mistero vittoriano. Ma questo suo primo libro del 1850 è un romanzo storico, ambientato nell'antica Roma e precisamente intorno al 410, durante il primo assedio di Roma da parte dei Goti. Io lo preferisco vittoriano ma ci sono dei capitoli in questo libro memorabili. Primo tra tutti il capitolo 22: Il banchetto della fame. Solo per questo Wilkie Collins va letto. Un libro cupo, gotico (e non solo nel senso dei Goti)e per certi versi molto affascinante. Wilkie alla fine non mi delude mai.
Oh, Wilkie, never use one word where you can use twenty. And don't forget to schedule one or two amazing co-incidences to round off your plot. Oh, and a terrible storm is always good for a few more pages.... How unfair of me, when actually I rather enjoyed this Gothic (literally) hokum. The title character is a total pain, but she's only there really to contrast to the baddies: some fine villains here. Probably only one for Collins completists, though.