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The Boat of Fate
The Roman Empire in its death throes provides the background for this historical novel that recreates the experiences of one man trying to cope with his changing world. The time is an age of violence and disintegration, when the old values of Imperial Rome are under attack from all sides;from the outside by waves of Goths and Vandals, and from within by the followers of a fanatical new Eastern sect who worship the Christos. In the midst of the chaos is Sergius Paullus, a young Roman whose spirit is as troubled as the Empire. From childhood Sergius dreams of the glory of being a soldier, but instead must be content with schooling and the games of children. Finally, his impetuous nature prods him to an act of rebellion that changes his life. Forced to leave home, he embarks of a trail of adventure that leads from the tenements of Rome to a series of military escapades in Hispania, Rome, and Gaul, and ultimately to a climactic battle in Britannia, where Sergius leads a doomed resistance to the barbarians.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1971
2 people are currently reading
200 people want to read
About the author
Keith Roberts
193 books55 followersUsed These Alternate Names: Alistair Bevan , John Kingston , David Stringer
Keith John Kingston Roberts was a British science fiction author. He began publishing with two stories in the September 1964 issue of Science Fantasy magazine, "Anita" (the first of a series of stories featuring a teenage modern witch and her eccentric granny) and "Escapism.
Several of his early stories were written using the pseudonym Alistair Bevan. His second novel, Pavane, which is really a collection of linked stories, may be his most famous work: an alternate history novel in which the Roman Catholic Church takes control of England following the assassination of Queen Elizabeth I.
Roberts wrote numerous novels and short stories, and also worked as an illustrator. His artistic contributions include covers and interior artwork for New Worlds and Science Fantasy, later renamed Impulse. He also edited the last few issues of Impulse although the nominal editor was Harry Harrison.
In later life, Roberts lived in Salisbury. He was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1990, and died of its complications in October 2000. Obituaries recalled him as a talented but personally 'difficult' author, with a history of disputes with publishers, editors and colleagues.
Keith John Kingston Roberts was a British science fiction author. He began publishing with two stories in the September 1964 issue of Science Fantasy magazine, "Anita" (the first of a series of stories featuring a teenage modern witch and her eccentric granny) and "Escapism.
Several of his early stories were written using the pseudonym Alistair Bevan. His second novel, Pavane, which is really a collection of linked stories, may be his most famous work: an alternate history novel in which the Roman Catholic Church takes control of England following the assassination of Queen Elizabeth I.
Roberts wrote numerous novels and short stories, and also worked as an illustrator. His artistic contributions include covers and interior artwork for New Worlds and Science Fantasy, later renamed Impulse. He also edited the last few issues of Impulse although the nominal editor was Harry Harrison.
In later life, Roberts lived in Salisbury. He was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1990, and died of its complications in October 2000. Obituaries recalled him as a talented but personally 'difficult' author, with a history of disputes with publishers, editors and colleagues.
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
July 9, 2025
This is one of the best Roman historical fiction novels I've ever read! Even upon repeated rereadings! It takes place when the Western Roman Empire is on the wane.
Sergius Paullus, the protagonist, is atypical. Born in Hispania, after a serious altercation with his father he is thrown out of the house. He lives for a time in Rome and works for an uncle there, then is commissioned in the army as a tribune. Posted to Gaul, finally to far-off Britannia, he fights exterior battles with the enemy in both countries and interior ones, wrestling with his demons. He himself narrates and we follow his life's path.
Sergius is a serious person, an introvert, a scholar, and a decent, good-hearted person. Sometimes, for his age, he is somewhat naive. He also is often 'at the wrong place at the wrong time'. We see his besetting faults: he is quick to anger and is impetuous and impatient. After he has acted impulsively, he doesn't realize there are consequences to his actions. More than once, some unthinking action on his part leads his fate suddenly into a completely new direction. I thought he was a well fleshed-out character and fully human. He has become a favorite fictional personality. On the whole, the other characters were also well-rounded. The novel was extremely well-written. Its strong point was the character development of Sergius, although battle scenes and other action were clearly described.
This novel deserves to be better known. I hope my words will spark other readers' curiosity about this novel. I recommend it most highly for lovers of Roman historical fiction set in the latter days of the Empire. I wish it would be reissued in paperback [possibly with a more up-to-date cover, although this one is not bad] and for the first time on eReaders for more exposure.
Sergius Paullus, the protagonist, is atypical. Born in Hispania, after a serious altercation with his father he is thrown out of the house. He lives for a time in Rome and works for an uncle there, then is commissioned in the army as a tribune. Posted to Gaul, finally to far-off Britannia, he fights exterior battles with the enemy in both countries and interior ones, wrestling with his demons. He himself narrates and we follow his life's path.
Sergius is a serious person, an introvert, a scholar, and a decent, good-hearted person. Sometimes, for his age, he is somewhat naive. He also is often 'at the wrong place at the wrong time'. We see his besetting faults: he is quick to anger and is impetuous and impatient. After he has acted impulsively, he doesn't realize there are consequences to his actions. More than once, some unthinking action on his part leads his fate suddenly into a completely new direction. I thought he was a well fleshed-out character and fully human. He has become a favorite fictional personality. On the whole, the other characters were also well-rounded. The novel was extremely well-written. Its strong point was the character development of Sergius, although battle scenes and other action were clearly described.
This novel deserves to be better known. I hope my words will spark other readers' curiosity about this novel. I recommend it most highly for lovers of Roman historical fiction set in the latter days of the Empire. I wish it would be reissued in paperback [possibly with a more up-to-date cover, although this one is not bad] and for the first time on eReaders for more exposure.
February 22, 2020
I am generally not fond of older (pre-‘60s) historical fiction. Their perception of the ancient world was so tied up with visions of grandiose and ponderous men in white togas arguing very rationally in their atheistic, non-Christian yet strangely Catholic way that I had long written off the ancient world as essentially pompous and devoid of life. Authors like Mary Renault brought a new emotional core to the genre starting in the ‘50s, but the old ways continued to echo for some time. Military fiction in particular took longer to shake off the rationalistic unemotional quality that makes such ancient world stories so distant. I can’t think of any war narratives before the ‘90s, with their Face of Battle approach, which capture a convincing account of what ancient warfare felt like. Which is why this book, although it was written in ‘71 in many ways feels more in line with earlier novels.
Fortunately, what really changed in the ‘60s was a new focus on psychological realism and this book has that in droves. Whether he’s reflecting an ancient mindset or not (often not) Paullus is very much not the stoic hero of most older fiction. He is in fact a rather complicated and frustratingly imperfect character. He has a rather modern sense of ethics, but pared with an ancient lust for glory and triumph. It’s a fully realized portrait of a man. The downside of this is that I never liked the man very much. His stubbornness is at times incomprehensible and at one point he flat out tries to rape a girl for rejecting him.
The book’s plot is basically a journey narrative. Paullus goes from his youth in Spain to young adulthood in Rome and then a series of military postings in Western Europe. It’s hardly a spoiler to state he ends up in Britain since this is telegraphed strongly from the beginning. The book’s larger theme is the end of empire, as was required by the Historical Novelist Association™ for any book set in the late Roman period; say, post Nero. To be more specific, the book’s topic is the Germans crossing the Rhine and the very first Brexit. Both have been covered before in books of a similar style, The Little Emperors (Britain’s departure from the empire) and Eagle in the Snow (the Rhine crossing).
Comparison is unavoidable, but with this book the broader events really are a sideshow. Paullus’ inner journey is the true adventure. His tale is one of tragedy, and one you know will end unhappily. Happily, Paullus is not another Cassandra in the wilderness. Perhaps things would have been better had he been listened to, but then he often did a poor job of it himself. For the most part it avoids hitting us over the head with judgements of moral failings and decadence. At least it does until the ending, which seems in a rush to make up for lost time by throwing every ounce of tedious melodrama into the plot at once. Just listen to this purple prose: “The pent-up tide of humanity thus released rolled unchecked, driven by its own colossal momentum, through Belgica and Gaul and Hispania, clear to the sea. Behind it it left ruin, desolation and the dark.” Ugh.
The book is, alas, not accurate in the least. Though not wholly through lack of research. Generally speaking, historical fiction authors recreate the scholarship of the previous generation. Which means that the groundbreaking works of A.H.M. Jones and Peter Brown have made no impact on this tale of decline and fall. Which is unfortunate since I don’t think a truly living and vital late antique world is conceivable without them. Instead, most of the tone and style comes from authors such as Gibbon (1776) and Bury (1889). The idea that all late Roman generals were barbarians (and not just of barbarian descent, but actually from outside the empire and unfamiliar with Latin) is pure Gibbonish. So is the idea that everyone was locked into a hereditary career. And many of the moralizing aspects of the book come from those sources as well. Some errors come from comparisons to the modern day, like the “welfare” given to poorer citizens. More come from looking to the early empire. Duovirs, prefects, equestrians, legions, quinquennales, aediles, were all early imperial elements that had vanished or turned into something else by late Roman times. And even when late antique titles are used they’re not always used correctly. For example, the dukes did not outrank the counts.
Probably the most frustrating and confusing element is the use of the term “Roman”. Example from a Spanish father:
The answer to that, of course, is yes. Since 211 every inhabitant of the empire was a Roman citizen. This would be like a Californian asking “What rights has America over us? Are we Americans?” A Spaniard was as Roman as an Italian or Egyptian. So who are these “Romans” the book keeps contrasting ethnicities with? I have no idea. While the book never mentions it, the emperor Theodosius himself was Spanish, probably from the same Italica that Paullus hails from. Wouldn’t the emperor of Rome count as a Roman? I’m guessing not by the way the term is used here. And as this is the main societal conflict of the book that’s a real problem.
While the book generally feels wrong, even if it’s more a matter of presentation than chronology and narrative events, there are moments when it manages to capture facts better than most comparable works:
That’s pretty close to exactly the way the Wall is presented in many frontier studies. Good job!
I dunno. Perhaps I should like this book better. I’m not wholly sure why it never took off for me. But I suspect that it really was just that I’m antithetical to the older approach adopted. People for whom this isn’t a problem may find this book a hidden gem. But as I’m a student of the later empire a lot of the cliches abounding really turn me off.
Fortunately, what really changed in the ‘60s was a new focus on psychological realism and this book has that in droves. Whether he’s reflecting an ancient mindset or not (often not) Paullus is very much not the stoic hero of most older fiction. He is in fact a rather complicated and frustratingly imperfect character. He has a rather modern sense of ethics, but pared with an ancient lust for glory and triumph. It’s a fully realized portrait of a man. The downside of this is that I never liked the man very much. His stubbornness is at times incomprehensible and at one point he flat out tries to rape a girl for rejecting him.
The book’s plot is basically a journey narrative. Paullus goes from his youth in Spain to young adulthood in Rome and then a series of military postings in Western Europe. It’s hardly a spoiler to state he ends up in Britain since this is telegraphed strongly from the beginning. The book’s larger theme is the end of empire, as was required by the Historical Novelist Association™ for any book set in the late Roman period; say, post Nero. To be more specific, the book’s topic is the Germans crossing the Rhine and the very first Brexit. Both have been covered before in books of a similar style, The Little Emperors (Britain’s departure from the empire) and Eagle in the Snow (the Rhine crossing).
Comparison is unavoidable, but with this book the broader events really are a sideshow. Paullus’ inner journey is the true adventure. His tale is one of tragedy, and one you know will end unhappily. Happily, Paullus is not another Cassandra in the wilderness. Perhaps things would have been better had he been listened to, but then he often did a poor job of it himself. For the most part it avoids hitting us over the head with judgements of moral failings and decadence. At least it does until the ending, which seems in a rush to make up for lost time by throwing every ounce of tedious melodrama into the plot at once. Just listen to this purple prose: “The pent-up tide of humanity thus released rolled unchecked, driven by its own colossal momentum, through Belgica and Gaul and Hispania, clear to the sea. Behind it it left ruin, desolation and the dark.” Ugh.
The book is, alas, not accurate in the least. Though not wholly through lack of research. Generally speaking, historical fiction authors recreate the scholarship of the previous generation. Which means that the groundbreaking works of A.H.M. Jones and Peter Brown have made no impact on this tale of decline and fall. Which is unfortunate since I don’t think a truly living and vital late antique world is conceivable without them. Instead, most of the tone and style comes from authors such as Gibbon (1776) and Bury (1889). The idea that all late Roman generals were barbarians (and not just of barbarian descent, but actually from outside the empire and unfamiliar with Latin) is pure Gibbonish. So is the idea that everyone was locked into a hereditary career. And many of the moralizing aspects of the book come from those sources as well. Some errors come from comparisons to the modern day, like the “welfare” given to poorer citizens. More come from looking to the early empire. Duovirs, prefects, equestrians, legions, quinquennales, aediles, were all early imperial elements that had vanished or turned into something else by late Roman times. And even when late antique titles are used they’re not always used correctly. For example, the dukes did not outrank the counts.
Probably the most frustrating and confusing element is the use of the term “Roman”. Example from a Spanish father:
“What rights has Roma over us? You say she takes back her own. What right had she to take my son? Was he a Roman? Am I? Was my father, or his father before him, who also served her?”
The answer to that, of course, is yes. Since 211 every inhabitant of the empire was a Roman citizen. This would be like a Californian asking “What rights has America over us? Are we Americans?” A Spaniard was as Roman as an Italian or Egyptian. So who are these “Romans” the book keeps contrasting ethnicities with? I have no idea. While the book never mentions it, the emperor Theodosius himself was Spanish, probably from the same Italica that Paullus hails from. Wouldn’t the emperor of Rome count as a Roman? I’m guessing not by the way the term is used here. And as this is the main societal conflict of the book that’s a real problem.
While the book generally feels wrong, even if it’s more a matter of presentation than chronology and narrative events, there are moments when it manages to capture facts better than most comparable works:
“Of course, the Wall had never been conceived as an impregnable barrier. Rather it had been a line of demarcation, splitting the perennially unstable Brigantes from their northern allies. The great ditch that had guarded it to the south was for the most part filled in now; causeways had been built across it at innumerable points, to give access to the Wall and Military Way.”
That’s pretty close to exactly the way the Wall is presented in many frontier studies. Good job!
I dunno. Perhaps I should like this book better. I’m not wholly sure why it never took off for me. But I suspect that it really was just that I’m antithetical to the older approach adopted. People for whom this isn’t a problem may find this book a hidden gem. But as I’m a student of the later empire a lot of the cliches abounding really turn me off.
April 25, 2020
4/24/2020 - First time I read this it was a 5-star experience. A recent re-read reduced it to 4-stars.
Interesting character, well used to describe the fall of Rome ...
The end of the Roman Empire well depicted but too depressing. Need more uplifting stories nowadays.
The beginning segments, set in Iberia, the city of Rome, and southwest France remained captivating. But the scenes in Britain were less enjoyable. Also, Mr Roberts' ending for his main character was a let down.
Still, I recommend it, and much preferred this book to Wallace Breem's tale of the empire's end.
Eagle in the Snow: A Novel of General Maximus and Rome's Last Stand
***
One of the few HF-Roman books I've reread. Interesting main character and locations.
quotes:
"I was born in Hispania in the reign of Valentinian, that Pannonian clown who thought the world was made to benefit barbarians ... In my childhood both Hispania and Gaul were much disturbed, owing forced allegiance to Magnus Maximus, one-time Governor of Britannia and self-declared Augustus. The jockeyings for power among the various factions were complex and endless; we kept out heads down, paid our tax and hoped for better time.
"In those days Hispania was still a wealthy Province; indeed Baetica, in which stood my home town of Italica, had been called, like Egypt, the granary of Rome. Our wines were famous, while Hispanian horses fetched good prices anywhere in the Empire, being faster and smoother in action than the celebrated mounts of Persia. It was through the breeding of horses that my mother's family had first risen to eminence ... no disgrace when my father mingled the blood of Roma with the blood of a Celt.
Interesting character, well used to describe the fall of Rome ...
The end of the Roman Empire well depicted but too depressing. Need more uplifting stories nowadays.
The beginning segments, set in Iberia, the city of Rome, and southwest France remained captivating. But the scenes in Britain were less enjoyable. Also, Mr Roberts' ending for his main character was a let down.
Still, I recommend it, and much preferred this book to Wallace Breem's tale of the empire's end.
Eagle in the Snow: A Novel of General Maximus and Rome's Last Stand
***
One of the few HF-Roman books I've reread. Interesting main character and locations.
quotes:
"I was born in Hispania in the reign of Valentinian, that Pannonian clown who thought the world was made to benefit barbarians ... In my childhood both Hispania and Gaul were much disturbed, owing forced allegiance to Magnus Maximus, one-time Governor of Britannia and self-declared Augustus. The jockeyings for power among the various factions were complex and endless; we kept out heads down, paid our tax and hoped for better time.
"In those days Hispania was still a wealthy Province; indeed Baetica, in which stood my home town of Italica, had been called, like Egypt, the granary of Rome. Our wines were famous, while Hispanian horses fetched good prices anywhere in the Empire, being faster and smoother in action than the celebrated mounts of Persia. It was through the breeding of horses that my mother's family had first risen to eminence ... no disgrace when my father mingled the blood of Roma with the blood of a Celt.
May 29, 2015
An unfinished review which I started last year, hopefully at my next re-read will do the book some justice and finish it once and for all.
“Power is like poppy-juice… a drug that blinds and dazes, and finally kills.”
As the opening phrase goes “For many evenings now I have sat patiently, scratching away at the ragged mass of memories. It seems the time has come finally to reduce what I have committed to an order; to give it shape, and a certain logic or progression.” I too decided to write this review drop by drop, and it is time to sound the gathering, contrive the chain of words and phrases, and let’s see the outcome.
The Boat of Fate… WHAT a book! Where have you been all my life!? I’m glad it finally found its way to my harbour, aka shelf; as well as me finding the time to plunge, not once but twice, into its brownish pages, down the path of a memorable voyage. It definitely distinguishes itself among all other works in this genre, a masterpiece left in the shadows, in limbo – out of print and unknown. Sad to see such a flawless gem vanish into oblivion, barely drifting along, struggling to survive instead of receiving the deserved laurels. Oh dearie, such a shame… Written in a glorious English, one that commands instant respect and admiration with a rich and exquisite writing style, very complex by comparison with most of the Roman literature I have read so far. To quote Pliny, the author "possesses the utmost readiness, copiousness, and abundance of language... he teaches, entertains, and affects you; and you are at a loss to decide which of the three he does best.". Such a marvellous novel, a fascinating story that blends historical facts, mythology and fiction so well that keeps you spellbound from the first page to the last one.
Plot/Story. The Boat of Fate by Keith Richards is what critics would call a bildungsroman, the coming-of-age story of an Iberian Roman named Caius Sergius Paullus, and it is set against the backdrop of the decaying Western Roman Empire, in the time of Theodosius the Great and Stilicho aka the last of the great Roman generals.
Character wise. One above all shines in the spotlight, the main protagonist Sergius who seems to have been penned with a real dose of magic in the quill since his development throughout the book comes close to perfection in my opinion. I can only sympathize with all his shattering voyages into the depths of the Empire; the tales that probe his soul – love and longing, bitter heartbreak, occasional happiness, truelove… and those personality traits, the few humane flaws that makes us alive and unique, in his case: impetuousness, naiveté and quick-temper.
If I had to nominate another character that I truly liked, then certainly on 2nd place would be the mother, Calgaca. I was enticed by the chapter where she told the stories about her Celtic beliefs and her past. Great food for thought! Real folklore information from the Irish mythology about the realm of Tír na nÓg , the so called land of the youth.
“Tir-nan-Og, the land of the Blest… is the oldest faith of our people… we have a Heaven too. It lies over the western sea, a very long way away; so far that no boat has ever sailed to it, or ever will. For us, it is the Land of Heart’s Desire. There you can find eternal sunshine, eternal freedom and peace… there is a Boat – a white Boat, with no oars, that needs no wind to drive it. But no man can order its coming… I dreamed of it once… water glowing for miles… and there it was in the distance… like a swan, and golden in the light… no wind to send it in… the waves on the shore fell softly, like ripples in a brook.”
Supposedly, in Paullus’ family dreams had a meaning, to what end… I will let you figure that out for yourselves. I was deeply satisfied by the conclusion, not to mention my surprise. As for the prophecy itself, while in the dream world, Paulus meets Emperor Hadrian as a night-shape: “In the dream I found my voice, asked quaveringly the more firmly, ‘Who are you, sir?’. And the Shape laughed musically, though its voice when it answered was gentle and sad. ‘I am he whom you seek,’ it said. Then cunningly, ‘The man from the Adriatic…’.”
Own Thoughts. I noticed a pattern that the author has used at the end of each chapter, a golden touch. In essence, the usage of a paragraph/phrase which serves as a conclusion or sequel so as to pique the reader’s curiosity or pinch his sense of humor. For example, one phrase that I genuinely appreciated and left me grinning was the short conclusion of the first chapter “I won no glories, at the age of nine. Instead, I went to school.” Truth to be told, I have read the first chapter several times just because of these last choice of words. Priceless! Yet again, the confirmation that Richards was a genius in this field, the field of creation and words – literature. These minutiae, are part of his elaborated technique to elevate writing to a state of ne plus ultra. King Midas reborn… a golden touch.
The author has made dozens of descriptions of Rome’s daily torments, whose surmises comes close to my own imaginings. I have selected a few:
“Winter and summer, we suffered the nightly thunder of the traffic… carriages and heavy waggons… with the lights of the light, they burst into Rome like a flood… nobody will give way; collisions and injuries are commonplace … whips cracks, muleteers curse, the din from the iron-shod wheels beats forwards and back between the house fronts. From midnight onwards the wild pace slackens… but well before dawn the charge begins again in reverse… empty waggons… racing to reach the western gates before first light. Mixed with them come the raedae and carrucae of the wealthy… with its train of linkmen and slaves. Chariots, driven with maniac disregard, clatter and bound, horses plunge and neigh. Juvenal once observed that sleep is expensive in Rome; I realised… sleep is impossible, except maybe for the dead.”
“Rome… the mistress of the world… a frightened city. Rome was as she had always been, to the outward eye; bustling, noisy, vibrant with life. Grain-ships docked at her wharves, unloading their cargoes in golden streams; her aqueducts still delivered their countless gallons each day; men rose in hope, bedded in despair; and the arena roared. Emperor after Emperor, from the great Constantine onwards, had tried to forbid the games, but the people still would have their blood and bread. The Church railed, seeing in the amphitheater the very playground of demons; but to no avail. Scaviola still thrust his live hand into the coals, Icarus took his fearsome flight, Orpheus bleated while his guts were ripped by bears. Under it all lay terror; the terror of a hectic, swirling life that soon must end. I see it now so clearly; how in the quiet watches of the night the eyes if the city turned north and east, where in a great ring stretched the Provinces that for years had guaranteed the safety of the hub of Empire.”
If you ask yourself what was the Roman mentality back then... the answer is given by Vidimerius' answer to Sergius:
“Everybody cheats everybody else… the farmers and tied men cheat the landlords, the landlords cheat the tax-collectors. The little landlords, that is; the rich ones take care not to pay any tax at all. The collectors cheat the Praefecture; the Praefecture cheats the government; and the government are the biggest bloody robbers of the lot. Now one honest man, in the middle of all that, is going to stick out like a sore thumb; he’s going to be investigated as an oddity by everyone in the Province”
After some research, I discovered that a 5th century writer Appolinarius Sidonius makes a reference to the Burgundians how they were of giant stature – some being “septipedes”, as much as seven feet tall – dyed their head blonde and smeared it with rancid butter. Whether these tales are true or not… we have to take his word in this matter, why would he lie? Now, these minutiae details are used in portraying Richards’ Burgundians “Most of the troopers were big, strapping fellows… popular legend has it that they all stand at least seven feet high. That isn’t correct, but the other tales that’s told about them, that they smear their long hair with butter, certainly is.”
The author leaves no stone unturned and touches the matter of religion as well. For example The Faith of the Burgundians… most of them still worship old tribal gods the Vanir, the Aesir – the divine triad: Wotan, Ziu and Donar. “Wotan is the lord of storms; he kindles battle lust in their hearts. Donar gives strength to their sword arms, and Ziu is the Judge who decides whether or not they’re to fall. That’s why they’re such good soldiers: they believe if they do die fighting, Ziu will take them up and give them a seat in his banqueting hall. Sort of a permanent carouse, with drink and women and all the rest thrown in.”
Did I forget anything else? Well... not for now. I recommend this book to anyone, HF addict or otherwise, the prose is just flawless in my opinion. If not the best, one of the best novels of its genre.
“Power is like poppy-juice… a drug that blinds and dazes, and finally kills.”
As the opening phrase goes “For many evenings now I have sat patiently, scratching away at the ragged mass of memories. It seems the time has come finally to reduce what I have committed to an order; to give it shape, and a certain logic or progression.” I too decided to write this review drop by drop, and it is time to sound the gathering, contrive the chain of words and phrases, and let’s see the outcome.
The Boat of Fate… WHAT a book! Where have you been all my life!? I’m glad it finally found its way to my harbour, aka shelf; as well as me finding the time to plunge, not once but twice, into its brownish pages, down the path of a memorable voyage. It definitely distinguishes itself among all other works in this genre, a masterpiece left in the shadows, in limbo – out of print and unknown. Sad to see such a flawless gem vanish into oblivion, barely drifting along, struggling to survive instead of receiving the deserved laurels. Oh dearie, such a shame… Written in a glorious English, one that commands instant respect and admiration with a rich and exquisite writing style, very complex by comparison with most of the Roman literature I have read so far. To quote Pliny, the author "possesses the utmost readiness, copiousness, and abundance of language... he teaches, entertains, and affects you; and you are at a loss to decide which of the three he does best.". Such a marvellous novel, a fascinating story that blends historical facts, mythology and fiction so well that keeps you spellbound from the first page to the last one.
Plot/Story. The Boat of Fate by Keith Richards is what critics would call a bildungsroman, the coming-of-age story of an Iberian Roman named Caius Sergius Paullus, and it is set against the backdrop of the decaying Western Roman Empire, in the time of Theodosius the Great and Stilicho aka the last of the great Roman generals.
Character wise. One above all shines in the spotlight, the main protagonist Sergius who seems to have been penned with a real dose of magic in the quill since his development throughout the book comes close to perfection in my opinion. I can only sympathize with all his shattering voyages into the depths of the Empire; the tales that probe his soul – love and longing, bitter heartbreak, occasional happiness, truelove… and those personality traits, the few humane flaws that makes us alive and unique, in his case: impetuousness, naiveté and quick-temper.
If I had to nominate another character that I truly liked, then certainly on 2nd place would be the mother, Calgaca. I was enticed by the chapter where she told the stories about her Celtic beliefs and her past. Great food for thought! Real folklore information from the Irish mythology about the realm of Tír na nÓg , the so called land of the youth.
“Tir-nan-Og, the land of the Blest… is the oldest faith of our people… we have a Heaven too. It lies over the western sea, a very long way away; so far that no boat has ever sailed to it, or ever will. For us, it is the Land of Heart’s Desire. There you can find eternal sunshine, eternal freedom and peace… there is a Boat – a white Boat, with no oars, that needs no wind to drive it. But no man can order its coming… I dreamed of it once… water glowing for miles… and there it was in the distance… like a swan, and golden in the light… no wind to send it in… the waves on the shore fell softly, like ripples in a brook.”
Supposedly, in Paullus’ family dreams had a meaning, to what end… I will let you figure that out for yourselves. I was deeply satisfied by the conclusion, not to mention my surprise. As for the prophecy itself, while in the dream world, Paulus meets Emperor Hadrian as a night-shape: “In the dream I found my voice, asked quaveringly the more firmly, ‘Who are you, sir?’. And the Shape laughed musically, though its voice when it answered was gentle and sad. ‘I am he whom you seek,’ it said. Then cunningly, ‘The man from the Adriatic…’.”
Own Thoughts. I noticed a pattern that the author has used at the end of each chapter, a golden touch. In essence, the usage of a paragraph/phrase which serves as a conclusion or sequel so as to pique the reader’s curiosity or pinch his sense of humor. For example, one phrase that I genuinely appreciated and left me grinning was the short conclusion of the first chapter “I won no glories, at the age of nine. Instead, I went to school.” Truth to be told, I have read the first chapter several times just because of these last choice of words. Priceless! Yet again, the confirmation that Richards was a genius in this field, the field of creation and words – literature. These minutiae, are part of his elaborated technique to elevate writing to a state of ne plus ultra. King Midas reborn… a golden touch.
The author has made dozens of descriptions of Rome’s daily torments, whose surmises comes close to my own imaginings. I have selected a few:
“Winter and summer, we suffered the nightly thunder of the traffic… carriages and heavy waggons… with the lights of the light, they burst into Rome like a flood… nobody will give way; collisions and injuries are commonplace … whips cracks, muleteers curse, the din from the iron-shod wheels beats forwards and back between the house fronts. From midnight onwards the wild pace slackens… but well before dawn the charge begins again in reverse… empty waggons… racing to reach the western gates before first light. Mixed with them come the raedae and carrucae of the wealthy… with its train of linkmen and slaves. Chariots, driven with maniac disregard, clatter and bound, horses plunge and neigh. Juvenal once observed that sleep is expensive in Rome; I realised… sleep is impossible, except maybe for the dead.”
“Rome… the mistress of the world… a frightened city. Rome was as she had always been, to the outward eye; bustling, noisy, vibrant with life. Grain-ships docked at her wharves, unloading their cargoes in golden streams; her aqueducts still delivered their countless gallons each day; men rose in hope, bedded in despair; and the arena roared. Emperor after Emperor, from the great Constantine onwards, had tried to forbid the games, but the people still would have their blood and bread. The Church railed, seeing in the amphitheater the very playground of demons; but to no avail. Scaviola still thrust his live hand into the coals, Icarus took his fearsome flight, Orpheus bleated while his guts were ripped by bears. Under it all lay terror; the terror of a hectic, swirling life that soon must end. I see it now so clearly; how in the quiet watches of the night the eyes if the city turned north and east, where in a great ring stretched the Provinces that for years had guaranteed the safety of the hub of Empire.”
If you ask yourself what was the Roman mentality back then... the answer is given by Vidimerius' answer to Sergius:
“Everybody cheats everybody else… the farmers and tied men cheat the landlords, the landlords cheat the tax-collectors. The little landlords, that is; the rich ones take care not to pay any tax at all. The collectors cheat the Praefecture; the Praefecture cheats the government; and the government are the biggest bloody robbers of the lot. Now one honest man, in the middle of all that, is going to stick out like a sore thumb; he’s going to be investigated as an oddity by everyone in the Province”
After some research, I discovered that a 5th century writer Appolinarius Sidonius makes a reference to the Burgundians how they were of giant stature – some being “septipedes”, as much as seven feet tall – dyed their head blonde and smeared it with rancid butter. Whether these tales are true or not… we have to take his word in this matter, why would he lie? Now, these minutiae details are used in portraying Richards’ Burgundians “Most of the troopers were big, strapping fellows… popular legend has it that they all stand at least seven feet high. That isn’t correct, but the other tales that’s told about them, that they smear their long hair with butter, certainly is.”
The author leaves no stone unturned and touches the matter of religion as well. For example The Faith of the Burgundians… most of them still worship old tribal gods the Vanir, the Aesir – the divine triad: Wotan, Ziu and Donar. “Wotan is the lord of storms; he kindles battle lust in their hearts. Donar gives strength to their sword arms, and Ziu is the Judge who decides whether or not they’re to fall. That’s why they’re such good soldiers: they believe if they do die fighting, Ziu will take them up and give them a seat in his banqueting hall. Sort of a permanent carouse, with drink and women and all the rest thrown in.”
Did I forget anything else? Well... not for now. I recommend this book to anyone, HF addict or otherwise, the prose is just flawless in my opinion. If not the best, one of the best novels of its genre.
September 9, 2011
I was pointed in the direction of this excellent book by a member of staff in a bookshop. It was recommended to me as the best Roman historical fiction novel the man had ever read. While I won't give The Boat of Fate that title, because The Eagle of The Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff has that honour, I will afford it a place in the top five.
This book is astonishingly well written, and details the life of Sergius Paullus, an Iberian Roman whose life spans the last years in the western Roman Empire, when men such as Theodosius ruled, and generals like Stilicho fought to save the last parts of the formerly great empire from destruction. Sergius, an angry and troubled young man, wanders from Iberia to Rome, takes service with the army in Gaul and is then sent to Britain, where he is intimately involved in the last struggle after the legions left in 410 AD. The prose wears its historical detail very lightly, yet conjures a wonderfully intense image of Rome and its empire. I couldn't put it down.
It's a book which has only recently come back in to print, and I sincerely hope that a large publisher takes it on board and rejackets it, because it would sell in large numbers. In its current incarnation, that is unlikely, unfortunately.
Take a chance, buy this book. I guarantee that after the first chapter you'll be hooked. It's a fantastic read.
This book is astonishingly well written, and details the life of Sergius Paullus, an Iberian Roman whose life spans the last years in the western Roman Empire, when men such as Theodosius ruled, and generals like Stilicho fought to save the last parts of the formerly great empire from destruction. Sergius, an angry and troubled young man, wanders from Iberia to Rome, takes service with the army in Gaul and is then sent to Britain, where he is intimately involved in the last struggle after the legions left in 410 AD. The prose wears its historical detail very lightly, yet conjures a wonderfully intense image of Rome and its empire. I couldn't put it down.
It's a book which has only recently come back in to print, and I sincerely hope that a large publisher takes it on board and rejackets it, because it would sell in large numbers. In its current incarnation, that is unlikely, unfortunately.
Take a chance, buy this book. I guarantee that after the first chapter you'll be hooked. It's a fantastic read.
June 10, 2017
For the full review and more, visit my blog
While most books I have read so far focus on periods about the rise or height of power of the Roman Empire, this book focuses on the time of its fall. The Western Roman Empire around 410 AD with Emperor Theodosius and its last famous general Stilicho faces threats from all sides. The Barbarians push them especially at the northern frontier at the Rhine, where the German tribes wage an ever-harder fight against the plague-ridden and extremely decimated legions.
The first chapter introduces the veteran Sergius Paullus a former officer of the Roman army reminiscing his past, through which the reader is so skilfully guided by Roberts. From an early age Sergius, against his father’s will, dreams of a career in the Roman army. Trained by one of the household-workers and former soldier, Sergius becomes a skilled swordsman regardless. After the death of his mother and the resentment against his father, erupting in a heavy argument, Sergius is forced to move to Rome. After working for his uncle for some years, a scandal finally opens the opportunity for the long hoped for commission as a tribune in the Roman army in Gaul. Sergius’ journey finally leads him to the far-off Britannia, the country where his mother came from and for which he holds a deep-rooted fascination. At that time, the Roman legions leave the island for good and Sergius is caught in the following invasion. Britannia is left to its own devices by Rome and Sergius finds himself deeply entangled in the conflict and does his best to prove himself.
Roberts presents a captivating tale and with Sergius creates a strong-willed although somewhat naïve character, who struggles with his desire to do his duty and what he deems is right. His strong empathy for even the lowest of the Roman society as well as those from the provinces deemed by most as not much better than the barbarians is in stark contrast to the typical Roman behaviour. Combined with the extremely good writing, Roberts made me both hit myself in frustration when Sergius did something stupid again, as well as admiring Sergius’ strength of character when his ideals clashed with the darker reality as for example during his time at the Roman mines.
The boat of Fate is a well-paced story full of Britannic myths, Roman culture and historical facts that certainly kept my attention. I can highly recommend this relatively unknown book to every fan of historical fiction who is looking for a new approach in a genre often suffering from too battle-focused stories with little regard to good writing style.
While most books I have read so far focus on periods about the rise or height of power of the Roman Empire, this book focuses on the time of its fall. The Western Roman Empire around 410 AD with Emperor Theodosius and its last famous general Stilicho faces threats from all sides. The Barbarians push them especially at the northern frontier at the Rhine, where the German tribes wage an ever-harder fight against the plague-ridden and extremely decimated legions.
The first chapter introduces the veteran Sergius Paullus a former officer of the Roman army reminiscing his past, through which the reader is so skilfully guided by Roberts. From an early age Sergius, against his father’s will, dreams of a career in the Roman army. Trained by one of the household-workers and former soldier, Sergius becomes a skilled swordsman regardless. After the death of his mother and the resentment against his father, erupting in a heavy argument, Sergius is forced to move to Rome. After working for his uncle for some years, a scandal finally opens the opportunity for the long hoped for commission as a tribune in the Roman army in Gaul. Sergius’ journey finally leads him to the far-off Britannia, the country where his mother came from and for which he holds a deep-rooted fascination. At that time, the Roman legions leave the island for good and Sergius is caught in the following invasion. Britannia is left to its own devices by Rome and Sergius finds himself deeply entangled in the conflict and does his best to prove himself.
Roberts presents a captivating tale and with Sergius creates a strong-willed although somewhat naïve character, who struggles with his desire to do his duty and what he deems is right. His strong empathy for even the lowest of the Roman society as well as those from the provinces deemed by most as not much better than the barbarians is in stark contrast to the typical Roman behaviour. Combined with the extremely good writing, Roberts made me both hit myself in frustration when Sergius did something stupid again, as well as admiring Sergius’ strength of character when his ideals clashed with the darker reality as for example during his time at the Roman mines.
The boat of Fate is a well-paced story full of Britannic myths, Roman culture and historical facts that certainly kept my attention. I can highly recommend this relatively unknown book to every fan of historical fiction who is looking for a new approach in a genre often suffering from too battle-focused stories with little regard to good writing style.
July 21, 2018
The life of a Roman citizen during the latter days of the Roman empire - One historical event described took place in 405 CE during Honorius' reign as emperor. His life is engaging.
September 3, 2013
Found this a really enjoyable read. Excellently presented historical novel, good characters, very exciting.
March 3, 2018
After what felt like a slow start, Boat of Fate picked up the pace and kept me hooked until the last quarter of the book, where a number of small issues that had been niggling at me throughout came to the forefront and annoyed me so much that I skimmed the last 50 or 60 pages.
It’s well written to be sure – Roberts has a very clear, meticulous style (or maybe that’s just the main character’s voice coming through), that I found easy to sink into – and the wealth of historical detail is fascinating. As a Catholic, an outsider’s perspective on the early Church was extremely interesting, as was the dramatisation of heresies (Arianism) and controversies that I’d only heard of in passing before. In fact I’m sure there are a lot of little details that I missed, not knowing much about the last days of the Roman Empire. If I were more of a history nerd, I might have coped with the little problems better. And despite the fact that he got on my nerves sometimes, Sergius the narrator was very relatable in his legalistic, obsessive way. So very definitely a book worth reading, and hence the three stars.
That said, I did get pretty fed up with it in the end and that was down to three main things. The first is that the fall of any civilisation is grim, and watching the death throes of Rome from the bleak, rainy setting of Britannica (credit where it’s due – I could imagine that landscape so vividly, the sense of place is very strong throughout the book) is just depressing. I think it would be less depressing if you bought into what I guess were supposed to be the hopeful parts of the book: Sergius’ developing faith and his big romance. I did not. Ironically, given that his nemesis ended up being an Arian heretic, our humble narrator’s personal beliefs ultimately seem to boil down to a lot of vague pantheism, focusing on the ‘mystical unity of all Being’. How on Earth someone with as analytical and logical a brain as Sergius could possibly reconcile believing in Christianity and in pagan gods is a mystery to me. The sheer illogic of it all, of divorcing spirituality from reason, left me pretty fed up.
I could have coped with the silly pseudo-philosophy, I think, if the romance subplot had been more convincing. As it was though, Sergius’ grand love affair came too late in the book for me to really get invested in it and it felt too much like infatuation for me to believe in it. I couldn’t tell you, having read that book, what he actually liked about her, apart from her beauty. I don’t know why, on a second meeting, Creawy (sp?) was so interested in him as to sleep with him. It all just felt so rushed, there was none of that slow growth that makes a connection between two characters believable. And I don’t think the length of the book was the problem here – his second romance (with the girl with the speech impediment whose name I’ve unfortunately forgotten) and his friendship with the Tribune Valerius manage to develop naturally within an equally small narrative space. It all just seemed to flag at the end, unfortunately. Still, as I said, it was enjoyable for the most part and I’d definitely recommend it to history buffs and anyone looking for a decent read to pass the time.
It’s well written to be sure – Roberts has a very clear, meticulous style (or maybe that’s just the main character’s voice coming through), that I found easy to sink into – and the wealth of historical detail is fascinating. As a Catholic, an outsider’s perspective on the early Church was extremely interesting, as was the dramatisation of heresies (Arianism) and controversies that I’d only heard of in passing before. In fact I’m sure there are a lot of little details that I missed, not knowing much about the last days of the Roman Empire. If I were more of a history nerd, I might have coped with the little problems better. And despite the fact that he got on my nerves sometimes, Sergius the narrator was very relatable in his legalistic, obsessive way. So very definitely a book worth reading, and hence the three stars.
That said, I did get pretty fed up with it in the end and that was down to three main things. The first is that the fall of any civilisation is grim, and watching the death throes of Rome from the bleak, rainy setting of Britannica (credit where it’s due – I could imagine that landscape so vividly, the sense of place is very strong throughout the book) is just depressing. I think it would be less depressing if you bought into what I guess were supposed to be the hopeful parts of the book: Sergius’ developing faith and his big romance. I did not. Ironically, given that his nemesis ended up being an Arian heretic, our humble narrator’s personal beliefs ultimately seem to boil down to a lot of vague pantheism, focusing on the ‘mystical unity of all Being’. How on Earth someone with as analytical and logical a brain as Sergius could possibly reconcile believing in Christianity and in pagan gods is a mystery to me. The sheer illogic of it all, of divorcing spirituality from reason, left me pretty fed up.
I could have coped with the silly pseudo-philosophy, I think, if the romance subplot had been more convincing. As it was though, Sergius’ grand love affair came too late in the book for me to really get invested in it and it felt too much like infatuation for me to believe in it. I couldn’t tell you, having read that book, what he actually liked about her, apart from her beauty. I don’t know why, on a second meeting, Creawy (sp?) was so interested in him as to sleep with him. It all just felt so rushed, there was none of that slow growth that makes a connection between two characters believable. And I don’t think the length of the book was the problem here – his second romance (with the girl with the speech impediment whose name I’ve unfortunately forgotten) and his friendship with the Tribune Valerius manage to develop naturally within an equally small narrative space. It all just seemed to flag at the end, unfortunately. Still, as I said, it was enjoyable for the most part and I’d definitely recommend it to history buffs and anyone looking for a decent read to pass the time.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 16, 2020
I'm very wary of books described as 'classics'. The Last of the Wine, Catch 22, are another couple that spring to mind that I found a little underwhelming when I got around to reading them. I found the same with this.
It's a good book, a brilliant story told in a tad outdated way. The author does not have the right balance between 'telling' and showing', and I felt the first half of the story should have been trimmed to give more words to the latter half of the book, where the action really kicks off.
To be honest when reading the first ten chapters it seemed as though the author was laying the groundworks for what would be two or three books, but the MC's character evolution in the second half does not match with the child we are introduced to, and at times it was difficult to work out just how old he had become.
Some of the research done for the novel is now outdated, though that doesn't spoil the story. It is a good story, not quite what I was expecting, I just couldn't shake the feeling that had it been written more recently, it would have been a much better read
It's a good book, a brilliant story told in a tad outdated way. The author does not have the right balance between 'telling' and showing', and I felt the first half of the story should have been trimmed to give more words to the latter half of the book, where the action really kicks off.
To be honest when reading the first ten chapters it seemed as though the author was laying the groundworks for what would be two or three books, but the MC's character evolution in the second half does not match with the child we are introduced to, and at times it was difficult to work out just how old he had become.
Some of the research done for the novel is now outdated, though that doesn't spoil the story. It is a good story, not quite what I was expecting, I just couldn't shake the feeling that had it been written more recently, it would have been a much better read
January 15, 2016
Excellent account of a roman noblemans adventures as the empire is coming apart at the seams
The interactions with barbarian troops , slave armies and the bustling city itself seem to be spot on .
As someone who has read a lot about the late empire I can support the accuracy of this book
The interactions with barbarian troops , slave armies and the bustling city itself seem to be spot on .
As someone who has read a lot about the late empire I can support the accuracy of this book
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March 13, 2012Deutscher Titel - Das Boot des Schicksals
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