La Gloire de l'empire

by Jean d'Ormesson

En écrivant la chronique d'un fabuleux empire imaginaire où toutes les passions humaines ont servi les ruses de l'histoire diplomatique et militaire, Jean d'Ormesson a retrouvé le ton des grands historiens du XIXe siècle. Il a pastiché avec le plus grand brio les récits historiques classiques, les querelles d'érudits, tout en créant une aventure romanesque pleine de bruit et de fureur, d'amour et de poésie, autour du règne d'Alexis aux prises avec les hordes barbares.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, France, 20th Century, Fantasy, Novels, Literature

704 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published September 29, 1971

About the author

Jean Bruno Wladimir François de Paule Le Fèvre d’Ormesson est un écrivain, chroniqueur, éditorialiste et philosophe français. Ancien élève de l’École normale supérieure. Agrégé de philosophie. Directeur général du Figaro de 1974 à 1977. Secrétaire général, puis Président du Conseil international de la philosophie et des sciences humaines à l’UNESCO. Élu à l‘Académie française, le 18 octobre 1973, au fauteuil de Jules Romains (12e fauteuil).

Jean Bruno Wladimir François de Paule Le Fèvre d’Ormesson is a French writer, journalist, columnist and philosopher. Alumnus of the École normale supérieure. Degree in philosophy. CEO of Figaro from 1974 to 1977. Secretary-General, then President of the International Council of Philosophy and Human Sciences at UNESCO. Elected to the Académie française (French Academy), October 18, 1973, chair of Jules Romains (12th chair).

Reviews

[Tony · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this on vacation. Well, it was the second book I read on vacation. The first - Sand - I read at the beach, appropriately enough. Then, just as I started this one, heavy winds came, roiling the surf and making the beach inhospitable. We repaired to a pool area, sheltered from the wind, and right amidst some French Cloisters. So I read this, The Glory of Empire, with this view:









Yes, it was clothing optional. At least for the statuary. In any event, it was the perfect setting for reading this book about the building and rending of Empire, long, long ago.

And it's all make-believe, an imagined time, place and people. Which, of course, put me in mind of Hav by Jan Morris. I preferred Hav with its wit and charm. This one seemed more constrained by its structure yet it had its moments:

Truth and happiness were history itself. History was held back by a siege that was too long, a battle that was lost, by regulations that were too mild. It was pushed forward by the entry of troops into exhausted cities, by victorious navies, by roads across mountains and post stages with fresh horses. Logophilus said history had no conscience, but it knew the way it had to go, and the only mistakes it made were those men made when they tried, in vain, to oppose its course.

I liked one of the epigrams to begin the book, also a probable invention:

History is a novel that happened; a novel is history that might have happened.

[Richard Derus]

I'm about 1/3 of the way through this astonishingly dense novel of the fictional empire of the title. I am saddened to learn that the author died yesterday. He was 92, so this isn't a shock. But to know that the imagination that created this tapestry of beautiful ideas is gone forever makes me feel wistful. I am not as upset as I will be when Ursula K. LeGuin dies, but it perturbs my mental orbit nonetheless.

The publisher sent me a copy of this book, for which I am grateful and which will eventuate in its review appearing here, but the pace of the story demands that I fully absorb it and internalize it. I won't insult this 45-year-old masterwork by dashing off some thoughts about it.

[Bryn Hammond · Rating 4 out of 5]

A patchwork of history: no doubt you'll recognise derivation from the histories you know, as I did. A pastiche, a large part of whose charm is the witty insertion of this imagined history into real-world reception. I didn't want to put the book down and look up Proust when he pretends In Search of Lost Time refers to an event of this history at a famous moment in Proust's novel, but I'm still curious to sort that out. There is an endless parade of names who refer, well-known and lesser-known -- a play by Victor Hugo, an invented line of Walt Whitman, and of course Edward Gibbon wrote a book on the empire. It's fun. The history itself often manages to be gripping, although unfortunately the main king didn't come alive for me like other personalities. At appropriate times there is a lyricism which the translation captures, and is quite lovely. The translation seems a feat achieved in itself, and imitates John Dryden's translation where the French original imitates Corneille. There are probably too many love stories involved for a history, although arguably not, and most of them were good ones anyway.

It reflects on empire -- overtly, more in the way of world empire, premodern ideas of universality (and their reception).

Patchy, for me, but now and then magnificent. I want to read again.

[Michael Samerdyke · Rating 5 out of 5]

If I could, I would give this book to every bored Western Civ instructor out there.

This is both an extremely funny parody of history and a book of very serious ideas.

On the one hand, it spoofs all the historical cliches about ancient times. The chapter on barbarians just made me laugh out loud. If there is a cliche about barbarians that d'Ormesson didn't include in that chapter, I haven't read it.

Yet, the book also made me think -- about leadership, about what is important in life, about how difficult it is to connect to the past and understand it and yet why it is important we make that attempt.

I can't really think of another book like "The Glory of the Empire." It is a novel that reads like a work of history.

Strongly recommended to anyone with an interest in history and the ancient world.

[Desislava Filipova · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Славата на империята" Жан д'Ормесон е изключително мащабен и многопластов роман. Написан в стила на историческа хроника, разказва историята на цивилизацията, в нейното многообразие, с всички сложи процеси, през призмата на няколко века от една измислена империя. През цялото време в художественото повествование се откриват следи от реални личности и събития, като в основата са гръцките полиси, Римската империя, Византия и някои варварски народи. Почти на всяка страница има размисли, които си заслужава да се помнят и цитират.
Всяка империя се изгражда трудно, с много битки, насилие, но това което споява са религията, празненствата и културния разцвет. Така върви естествения ход на цивилизацията, от първобитния стремеж да си обяснят света, природата, явленията, които определят живота на земеделците и животновъдите. Хората, с посредничеството на каста от жреци, им придават божествен облик и се стремят да ги омилостивяват със своите сложни ритуали. Постепенно се развива усет към език, литература, музика. Усложнява се структурата на обществото, завладяното трябва да бъде защитено и управлявано, съперниците стават много и освен войната, политика, дипломация и династични бракове оказват силно влияние. Заражда се стремежът към красивото, изработват се изящни предмети, а търговците донасят по море невероятни съкровища. Хората вече са занаятчии и творци. Но през много епохи стремежите и емоциите в основата си, си остават същите.
"затварянето в себе си на епохи и исторически манталитети....Но все още има нещо общо между неговата епоха и нашата.. Истинските преломи несъмнено се разполагат от една страна, към твърде далечните времена, когато се раждат градът, писмеността, земеделието, и от друга страна към времената - днес или утре, когато технологичната и интелектуалната революция ни въвеждат в един нов свят. .. отсам града и земеделието, оттатък завода и машината, все още нещо служи за връзка между хората, между техните планове, техните страсти.... Това е все така влечението към смеха, страха от страданието, нуждата да обичаш, да имаш приятели и да надделяваш над другите... управлението на хората, използването на страстите, редуването на обещания и вдъхването на страх си остават почти постоянни величини."
В тази пъстра картина на Античността възникват Града и Онеса, два съперничещи си града, управлявани от наследниците на двама братя, под знамената на Орела и Тигър. Техният генезис е представен в легендарен ореол, като Ромул и Рем и като толкова много легенди за основаването на важни градове.
Тези два града, ще се превърнат в основата на бъдещата империя, преживяла толкова разнообразни събития, възходи и тъмни векове, силни владетели, плячкосване от варварите.
Три основни периода, всеки с множество отклонения и подистории - Арсаф, Василий Велики и Алексей. Като третият е много събирателен образ, той сякаш е предопределен за велики дела, едновременно жесток и непоколебим и в същото време, обърнат силно към духовното, към аскетизма, има нещо месианско в този образ.
"Тежка грешка ще да е, ако се вярва в правдата в политиката и битката. Всяка битка убива, всяка политика облагодетелства едни за сметка на други. Само боговете са справедливи. Нали ти, Филократе, бе възжелал да ме научиш, че те рядко се наместват в земните дела? Ако искаш да си справедлив, това значи да вярваш, че си такъв. А да вярваш в правдивостта на своята собствена кауза означава да наречеш неправда всички други и тяхната кауза. Не се смятам за единствен справедлив. Опитвам се единствено да бъда най-силният - и това все пак без да бъда най-несправедливият. Вярвам, че никой не е зъл доброволно, без причина, за нищо. Само почтеността се състои в това да допуснеш, напротив, че и врагът по някакъв начин участва в правдата и истината. Винаги две правди се сблъскват, а също и две неправди. Силата решава. Справедливи ли сме Филократе?"
“Властта покварява – казвал Императорът. – А абсолютната власт покварява абсолютно…"
Романът е много интелектуален и философски, усеща се едно тънко иронизиране на историческата хроника с нейната категоричност, сякаш е възможен само един вариант на историята и всичко е написано и не подлежи на съмнение:
„Бъдещето принадлежи на Бог, но миналото принадлежи на историята“
И все пак извън множеството пластове е достъпно написан с множество обяснителни бележки и може да се чете като обикновена история.
Единственото неизменно нещо е смъртта, на човека, на империята, всяко нещо е крехко и тленно, единствено духовното, което няма постоянна форма може да надживее времето, хората оставят идеи, които да ги надживеят, империите оставят паметници. Пред портите на вечността увисва въпросът за какво е всичко, като дори и славата на империята е нетрайна. Всичко, което е постигнато може да бъде разрушено. Каквито и битки да е водил човек, "времето било единствения победител", и ако човек е избрал правилната роля, може да стигне до края на пътя си в покой, вместо в разкаяние.
Една от най-добрите книги, които съм чела.

[Daniel Polansky]

A history of the Holy Asian Empire, which never stretched from Iberia to Korea, indeed which never existed at all, save in the mind of the author and his readers. Meticulously if falsely documented, d'Ormesson mostly does a fine job of mimicking the tics and style of Gibbons' and his various followers, albeit it for an entirely fictional place. Honestly, I found I wanted to enjoy this more than I did – the idea of history as myth, the peculiar attempt to stuff a false nation into the actual historical record, all of this is appealing, but the actual plot is just not that interesting. Much of it, to me at least, read like a not altogether enjoyable fantasy novel, with heroes and priests winging in and out of the narrative. More clever in theory than practice.

[Dax · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fiction in historical narrative form; something you might expect to see if Herodotus had written a novel. Very little dialogue. This makes for an unusual read, but one that I enjoyed immensely. D’Ormesson borrows bits of well-known folklore, history, philosophy and art and installs them into his narrative. If you enjoy reading the ancient historians and poets of antiquity, you will enjoy this one. I’ve never read a novel quick like it.

[Laika · Rating 1 out of 5]

I found this, frankly, leafing through my bookshelf looking for a final book to read this year. I have a chunk of my bookshelf devoted to history books from university I never did more than skim through the introduction of, and at a glance at the cover and name I’d always assumed it was one of those. As it is actually a work of rather literary alternate history written by a French guy in 1971 I have literally no idea how I ever came into possession of it. However it happened this is, sadly one of those cases where it’s a book that’s almost written specifically for me, and is instead just a few degrees off and entirely intolerable.

The book is a history, though one of an empire that never existed. It arose and spread across the world in a vague era I can only really describe as ‘Xena Warrior Princess times’, shaping the history and cultures of everything that has followed. The book is written in the style of one of the more self-assured and grandiloquent monographs of the era, full to bursting with references to the historiography and the cultural memory of the events being described, and symbolic and psychoanaltyical perspectives on the people involved. The the book charts the vaguely Hellenistic, vaguely Byzantine empire’s rise, fall, and greater rise still across the centuries, mainly through the biographies of its three great unifiers.

Deciding what I think of this has been difficult because, as an artistic project it is a complete sense. As a matter of form it mimics (and exaggerates) the histories its based on near perfectly, and its themes are clearly are woven through the entirety of the text. Great care has clearly been taken with everything from the fake bibliography to all the ‘preserved fragments’ of poetry and the quotes put in famous figures mouths.

Perfectly executed it is just, awkwardly, a project I find somewhere between gratingly unenjoyable and actively loathsome. As a novella, it would have been a really interesting experiment in form – at 450 it’s a painful struggle. It does at least make for an interesting reading experience, if not one I can exactly recommend.

The best way that I can sum up the book is all the most irritating and tiresome tropes of old antiquarian histories, exulting in liberation from any obligation to those tedious and limiting facts and existing traditions which might restrain them. The result feels less like any sequence of events which might possibly have occurred and more like the lore of a rather generic fantasy setting.

In terms of style, the narrator drones. He bombards you into one lengthy and enumerated list of no consequence after another. He goes on long digressions about the fun anecdote leading to the discovery of a source that were presumably entertaining to him. He gestures towards the significant contributions of other schools of history as a polite aside and then ignores them entirely. He just, generally, reads like someone getting paid by the word.

As for tropes – look, this was published in the early ‘70s, a certain level of casual racism is kind of just the price of admission. But this really was just distractingly Orientalist. The constant presence of the savage barbarian hordes filling the Eurasian steppe, knowing nothing but war and bloodshed and always on the verge of overwhelming and destroying civilization, is presented as a simple and enduring fact of history. The essential and unified nature of ‘Eastern mysticism’ plays a key part in the plot. In this history stretching across all of Eurasia, Africa south of Egypt and Carthage simply does not exist except as a source of slaves. And so on – I suppose I really shouldn’t be surprised by this, any more than the occasional mentions of (male, of course) homosexuality exclusively as a symptom of decadent and effeminate urban decline, or the fact that there are (barely, and being generous) a grand total of two women with any significant at all beyond being a romantic prospect or mother of someone who really mattered.

In structure and thesis it is the greatest of Great Man histories, full of the world being shaped and remade by the epoch-defining virtues and faults of a small handful of epoch-defining emperors, ministers and saints who sweep away all before them. Logistics simply do not exist, political organization and grand strategies are organized across a span of continents without issue, every conflict is preordained by which side the Great Man of the moment happens to be on. Whole chapters of the book are devoted to giving the personal biography of the Emperor Alexius before his rise to power – chapters which feel less like reading the biography of person who might actually have existed and more like aan overlong Wikipedia article summarizing the exploits of the hero in some decades-old serial franchise. His adventures are all-but-explicitly compared to the Alexandrian Romance as a genre, but without any of the cultural context or comparisons over time that make that inspiration actually interesting.

All to say that yes, it is an excellent reproduction of a particular style of old history – and I am wholly agnostic on whether everything I just complained about is a flaw of the author or a testament to the skill of their imitation. It’s just not a kind I’ve ever found anything but tedious to read, and without the redeeming virtue of having any sort of reality to peer at through the fantasy, or a fantasy that was particularly compelling to read about on its own merits. Or I suppose some readers may find all the attributions of famous sayings, events and fables to the book’s characters intriguing or charming? Given the density and blatantness of them I just quickly found it eye-roll inducing. And without that colour the history has less drama or tension to it than the lore of your average Dungeons and Dragons setting. And as personal drama and character work – well, remarkably few plots are improved by being told in the form of a meandering essay that spends more time hammering you in the head with what glorious, world-historical love stories they are than actually telling you the story.

The books themes are quite explicit and all but didactic – about the relationship between history and fiction, and how every historian is creating their own reality and imposing their narrative on a loose scaffolding on fact and memory. Which is an entirely fair theme for a work of fiction, and I assume not quite so tired a one back in 1971. But my god are both popular and academic histories these days better about it. I have in the past joked about how ‘well isn’t that kind of reductive/oversimplifying’ has been every historian of the last two generation’s default response to any sort of theorizing or edifice-building of any kind, but this book has done an excellent job reminding me how preferable it is to the sweeping, mytheopic alternative.

Anyway yeah, intellectually interesting enough that it might have been a worthwhile read if it was just a novella.

[Richard Thompson · Rating 5 out of 5]

There are many historical novels and a number of novels written as histories, but I know of no other novel written as if it was the history of a civilization. I don't think that I have read a novel as sweeping in its view and theory of history since War and Peace. The Empire seems to have existed around the time of Rome, perhaps before, perhaps after. It was ambiguously located somewhere in the vicinity of the Eastern Mediterranean. The echoes of the Empire are to be found in our literature, art, music, law, folklore, culture and civilization. D'Ormesson is masterful in the ways that he weaves fictional bits of the Empire into different facets of Western culture. The leading characters are in some ways amalgams of historical figures, and in other ways completely original. The emperor Alexis bears traces of Alexander, Augustus, Constantine, and Justinian, but is far more than a mere reflection of his progenitors. The most fascinating part of this book is its theory of history. The idea that history is the story of the deeds of great men who drive historical events has been in disrepute for more than a century, but D'Ormesson makes us take a serious second look at it. He does not deny the importance of great historical trends that are beyond the power of any individual to change, but he tells us that great men make key decisions at critical points that turn the direction of history, and even where the great men are not the determiners of history they are still emblematic of their place and time so that history can be understood and appreciated through their stories. Alexis's minister, Logophilus, is the exponent of the opposite view of history -- that is is deterministic and is driven by iron laws so that the role of historians is to discover the laws and the role of man is to bring on the inevitable sooner. Ironically, Logophilus is himself a great man who helps determine the course of history. The view of history the D'Ormesson seems to support is put forward by his alter ego, the historian of the Empire, Justus Dion, who shares the author's initials, and who D'Ormesson tells us may even have been a pseudonym used by Alexis himself. At one point D'Ormesson speculates that the made up Justus Dion may have invented Alexis and that the whole empire is fictional, but then he dismisses the idea and moves on. This is just one example of the many wonderful layers in this book, which could be analyzed and stripped away for weeks without getting to the bottom.

[Jeff Lewonczyk · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one of the strangest books I've ever read. It's a novel that purports to be a history of one of the greatest empires in history, known simply as (wait for it) the Empire. Somehow, the author manages to seamlessly weave this fictional epoch into the fabric of Western (and a bit of Eastern) history as we know it, yet manages to do so without ever specifying exactly when and where this Empire existed. In the Near East, in the late Middle Ages? Before Christ? It's hard to say, and frankly, it doesn't even matter. Because, in addition to being a minutely detailed history of a made-up civilization, it's also a history of History itself, a story about the way that the past reflects the lives and obsessions of anyone who studies it.

The book is not quite a lark - despite being largely entertaining, I almost put it down a couple of times because I found it overwhelming, both in terms of the overload of detail and the nigh-infinite self-recursiveness. But I'm glad I stuck with it, because it truly is an impressive achievement, and the parade of stories of emperors, armies, lovers, philosophers, artists, religions and great cities rising and falling is unique and memorable. I'm glad I followed it to the end - both as a book, and as a meta-book.

[Sincerae Smith · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting concept for a novel, a novel set up as a long history of an imaginary Euro-Asiatic empire. In my opinion, somewhere between 3 to 4 stars.

[Paul H. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m almost impressed by how thoroughly D’Ormesson fails to fulfill the promise of his Borgesian premise. The parody of historiography doesn’t work, the history itself is deeply boring, the alternate reality sheds zero light on our reality, etc., etc. A talented author may want to take a stab at it, though.

[Paul Dembina · Rating 5 out of 5]

A most enjoyable history of an Empire that never existed (or did it?)

[Czarny Pies · Rating 2 out of 5]

"La gloire de l'empire" est une biographie parodique d'Alexandre le Grand (Alexis dans le roman). On voit aussi des éléments d'autres personnages historiques chez Alexis (Marc Aurèle et Auguste) mais il est finalement l'alter ego d'Alexandre le Grand. Comme Alexandre qui a été l'élève d'Aristote, Alexis a un philosophe comme précepteur. Le but du roman est de critiquer deux choses:
-1- l'écriture de l'histoire en général et les biographies en particulier
-2- la manière dont notre culture crée des mythes autour des personnages
Le roman est richement comique mais beaucoup trop long. Il rate ses deux objectifs.
La critique du genre littérarité de l'histoire est complètement ratée. Publié en 1971 quand l'école des Annales était au sommet de son influence, "La gloire de l'empire" ne tient absolument pas compte des idées de ce mouvement dans la profession de l'histoire. D'après les historiens des Annales, il y a avait trois temps historiques: -1- le temps géographique ou la longue durée (qui inclut aussi le temps climatique); -2- le temps social (qui inclut l'évolution de l'économie, de la démographie, des classes sociale; et -3- le temps événementiel (c'est -à-dire l'historie narrative). Les historiens des Annales étudiaient seulement les temps géographiques et sociaux. À leurs yeux on ne pouvait rien prouver avec l'études des événements à court temps qui ne sont que des fruits de l'hasard. Les biographies se trouvaient carrément à l'extérieur de l'histoire scientifique.
Le problème du roman de l'Ormesson est qu'il présente la même thèse sur l'histoire événementielle que les historiens des Annales et ne dit rien muet au sujet des histoires géographiques et sociales.
Les biographies qui appartiennent à la catégorie événementielle ont des énormes problèmes. D'abord, les personnes qui les écrivent sont normalement très partisans. Ils aiment un personnage historique (Churchill, de Gaulle, Mao, etc.) ou ils les détestent. Selon leurs préjugés, ils exagèrent inévitablement les fautes ou les bonnes qualités de leurs sujets. Le deuxième grand problème est qu'il est impossible de se mettre dans la tète d'une autre personnes; on ne peut jamais être certain des mobiles et des buts des personnes historiques. Le troisième problème est que les gestes des individus vue de l'extérieur et leurs dires sont souvent contradictoires.
Avec ces problèmes inhérents à la biographies, d'Ormesson écrit une pastiche qui fait rire du début à la fin. Les changements chez Alexis sont fréquents et surprenants. On ne sait pas s'il est croyant au non. Il est tantôt prudent tantôt téméraire. Les opinions et les jugements des gens qui le connaissent sont curieux. Ceux des historiens sont absurdes. Finalement, d'Ormesson explique très bien pourquoi les professeurs de l'histoires conseillent aux étudiants du premier cycle de ne pas lire de biographies. Cependant, il n'ajoute rien de nouveau au sujet de la faiblesse de la biographie.
D'Ormesson traite aussi de la façon dont les vrais personnages historiques deviennent des héros mythiques dans es arts (peintures, tableaux, tapisseries, romans et poèmes). Encore une fois il fait rire mais il ne nous éclaire pas mieux.
Le choix d'Alexandre / Alexis comme héros s'accorde très bien avec le but d'Ormesson qui est de critiquer l'écriture de l'histoire. D'abord, nous avons pas de bon chronique contemporain de la vie d'
Alexandre. D'Ormesson évite alors la comparaisons avec un grand historien comme Tacite ou Hérodote. Aussi avec Alexandre, d'Ormesson évite toute discussion marxiste ou analyse de lutte de classes. Pour la plupart des périodes de l'Antiquité les historiens contemporain parlent beaucoup des stratégies poursuivies pour contrôler les couches populaires rurales et urbaines de la société (c'est-à-dire, les hilotes et les plèbes.)
D'Ormesson a peut-être bien fait de ne pas discuter le sujet de la lutte des classes dans l'antiquité mais son roman m'a beaucoup laisser sur ma faim.

[Aaron · Rating 2 out of 5]

All the tedium of an unfocused history book with none of the actual insight into authentic events in human history to at least excuse the slog.

[Kevin · Rating 5 out of 5]

bom book 👍

[Dirk · Rating 4 out of 5]

Simultaneously a parody of great histories and an homage to them, The Glory of the Empire is an engaging, amusing read. d'Ormesson inserts real places and people within the boundaries of the completely fictional Empire and bolsters its "history" with footnotes to actual historians, artists and other writers--with fabricated quotes from nonexistent publications--even going so far as to cite references to claims that Emperor Alexis may never have existed, just as other historians have asserted that Napoleon never existed. Despite the ludicrous turns, it's clear from the narrator's occasional pithy and astute comments on the role of historians that the author reveres the power of such chroniclers to shape our visions of who we are and how the world came to be.

[Paul Daly · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fictional history, a historical fiction, a trip through the looking glass to an alternative universe, with as smart and erudite a guide as one could wish. A meditation on history as a novel and the novel as history unwritten. A sly and ingratiating work inserting itself seamlessly between Gibbon and Toynbee, rubbing shoulders with Dante and Cervantes and Corneille, invoking Lenin and Marx and Freud, riffing on Rome and Byzantium and the glory of Venice, riding with Alexander and the Mongol horde, conquering worlds cut whole from whatever cloth the author chooses. A masterpiece.

[Irm]

Rety, czemu mi się ostatnio takie dziwne francuskie książki trafiają? Męczyłam strasznie, m.in. przez retoryczny sposób narracji - zdecydowanie nie jest on dla mnie. Książka dla wytrwałych, zwłaszcza znawców / miłośników antyku i francuskiej kultury - mnóstw nawiązań i zabaw intelektualnych.

[m · Rating 4 out of 5]

An incredible and beautiful waste of time. A complete history of something that doesn’t exist, hasn’t existed, and will never exist. A colossal undertaking for the sake of nothing.

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

The greatest strength of The Glory of the Empire lies in Jean d'Ormesson's general observations, and its weakness lies in its specifics.

History is only useful if we attempt to learn from it. Memorizing names, places, and dates does nothing to improve anybody. We have to look at why things happened the way they did, how these things affect the present day, and how we can avoid making the same mistakes our predecessors made.

In this light, the idea of writing a fake history book, a text based entirely on the rise and fall of a completely fabricated civilization, has a whole lot of potential. If d'Ormesson is to present a realistic fake empire, he needs to have at least some hypothesis to test against history's big questions. And in general, he succeeds in at the very least showing us he's thinking about those questions.

There is something dispiriting about the march of history. That web which never alters despite an infinite range of motifs and variations: the same struggle for power under ever-different masks; the vain triumphs, the declines and falls; the ever-recurring myths; the straining toward a future that, though it always eludes the grasp, never ceases to exert its pressure and make its demands; the turning wheel which changes yet does not change; the hopes always disappointed, the victories foredoomed to failure - whether the picture they paint of man expresses his greatness or his weakness, we shall never know. Both, probably - and both at the same time. Nothing is more futile than history, and yet history is man himself. Nothing is more accidental, nothing more necessary. Everything could probably have been otherwise. But everything is as it is, and forever.

I imagine that's a bit sobering for historians, but I like it.

Writing a history book that doesn't need to be true allows d'Ormesson to editorialize when he wants, and that's to the benefit of this novel. However, when you're writing a novel, something is always required that isn't always crucial to writing true history: it's got to be compelling.

It's nice when a historian is a good writer, but if you're covering the history of Etruscan coins or something, I'm not going to complain if things get a little dry. But if you get to make the whole thing up, it's on you to deliver something engaging. In this regard, d'Ormesson is far more hit-and-miss.

He's got some great passages.

Death was all around him. He was like an island lashed at on every side by the waves. Death was attacking, the island still stood out for a few moments above the seething breakers, then it was overwhelmed by them and disappeared forever. He was the emperor of nothingness. These sumptuous colors and shapes, all this magnificence, the hymns of the priests, the swords and lances, the plumed helmets, the palaces around the square, the standards stamped with the Tiger and the ensigns surmounted by the Eagle, the thirst for power and the thirst for gold, even the beauty of the gardens and the sky, even the happiness he felt within him on spring mornings, all the impatience of youth, the friendship of men, ambition, anguish, all, including the pomp and circumstance of history, was nothing but illusion, nothing but the mask covering gulfs that held only silence.

But most of the book isn't like this.

Throughout The Glory of the Empire, d'Ormesson references dozens of real historical figures and places and connects them to his fictional empire. I also sense that part of the appeal of the book is supposed to come from its imitation of and comical winking towards the stylings of famous 19th and 20th century historians. Basically, you're far more likely to enjoy the book if you're a student of history. I was, for a while, and I recognized most of the people and places involved, but that only makes me more sure that this is much more of an impressive achievement than a good book. It's a book I appreciate rather than enjoy, which is OK. I envision this being great for a classroom, but not really for a couch at home.

I didn't have any other opportunity to share my favorite line from the book, so here it is, apropos of nothing.

"The only way to have clean hands is to not have hands. But we have hands, Philocrates."

[Trevor Seigler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this was recommended to me because I was reading "War and Peace" (still reading it, it's a huge book. I love it, but I can't tackle it all at one time), and so I decided to take a chance on it. The long interval between when I began this one and when I finished it today might have something to do with it, as I was reading other works and got distracted from this one often, but I found the charm wearing off pretty quickly between attempts to start back up with it. But it might resonate better with me on a more focused re-read.

"The Glory of the Empire" by Jean d'Ormesson is a history of a fictional world-spanning empire (well, the known world as of pre-Columbian times) and the people who ruled it, specifically the enigmatic Alexis. The novel reads like an old-school historical epic, and in parts it's pretty inventive and engaging. But like I said, being distracted by other books and then returning to this one often made me feel like the magic was decreasing with each successive return to the book, and the ways in which d'Ormesson plays with historical figures to tie them to his fictional world of the Empire. It's very interesting in places, kind of dull in others, and overall I felt like this was a book that I wanted to like more but just couldn't fully embrace. A+ for effort, B- for execution, maybe (again, not to hedge my bets, but I feel like it might read better with a re-read when I can devote my whole time to it. But I doubt that will occur anytime soon).

The history of the Empire and of the men and women who found it and rule it is pretty standard historical "Great Men (and Women) of History" stuff. It's a good send-up of a certain school of historical writing, where the people at the center of history are the rulers or the ones who dare to conquer, and it works well in showing how unreliable such writings can be (how do we know for sure that historical figures felt/said things if we don't have it written down except as especially purple prose. Basil the Great is a particularly nasty sort of anti-hero, while Alexis, who establishes the Empire to reach the Atlantic and Pacific oceans and across Europe, Africa, and Asia, is a mysterious force for good while committing some evil, and whose conscience reminds him that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Like I said, I wanted to like this novel better than I have ended up doing. But for what it attempts to do, it's pretty damn ambitious and (at times) very successful at its stated goal. So I feel like a re-read would likely cause me to feel more warmly towards it. But for a first-time read, "The Glory of the Empire" was only just okay, with flashes of brilliance amid some sometimes humdrum prose.

[Clément · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ok c’était trop bien. En gros c’est un académicien qui nous a fait une histoire monumentale d’un empire imaginaire (pour lequel il a tout inventé : cartes, lieux, monnaies, noms, iconographie) à la mode des historiens du XIXe siècle (les historiens auront la réf). Le livre fait 650 pages mais en fait on tient jusqu’au bout. Au début on reste pour le récit historique fictif trop bien raconté, mais au fur et à mesure du récit on comprend que cet empire, le plus grand de l’histoire, est en fait bien plus qu’un empire. Cet empire c’est l’humanité, et l’histoire qu’on lis, une histoire universelle. L’empereur Alexis, pièce maîtresse du roman, c’est en fait un peu chacun de nous. Encore une fois chez d’Ormesson on note un don pour décrire les passions humaines.
Le livre se termine sur une réflexion sur ce qu’est l’histoire, ses enjeux, ses limites. Une citation que j’ai kiffé (parmi tant d’autres) : « Où sont-elles, toutes ces délices, nos attentes, nos folles amours, nos ambitions insensées ? La vie les a emportées comme elle a emporté l’Empereur, comme elle a emporté l’Empire. Nous les gardons au cœur parce qu’elles sont notre passé. Le passé… le souvenir… Le monde n’est que son histoire. Rien de plus fragile que l’histoire. Rien de plus fragile que le monde. Le passé n’a pas d’autre sens que celui que nous lui donnons. L’art, la religion, la culture, l’histoire dressent une mince barrière dans l’esprit des vivants contre les gouffres de la mort, du temps qui court, de l’oubli. Les morts, nos pauvres morts n’ont d’autre vie qu’en nous » (p 631).

[Antoine JEAN · Rating 3 out of 5]

Amusant à lire, on s'y prend totalement ! Une chronique historique très bien documentée, qui cite ses nombreuses sources artistiques, historiques, littéraires, etc., sur un empire totalement fictif mais dans lequel on reconnaît des facettes de nombreuses sociétés réelles.
Au-delà des échos et parallèles à des événements réels, une réflexion et un questionnement de fond que je vois surtout à 2 niveaux :

- A travers le personnage d'Alexis, sur le paradoxe du pouvoir, la nécessité d'une certaine violence dans le gouvernement même pour permettre le changement vers la paix et la prospérité. Le choix moral du dirigeant qui sacrifie sa vie et sa "bonté" au service de l'exercice du pouvoir qui doit être parfois dur pour le plus grand nombre, l'acceptabilité ou non du "grand refus" en position de pouvoir
(Un twist amusant aussi sur un empire qui se construit par alliances avec ses rivaux vaincus, tentative fictive de changer le cycle historique des dominations > rébellions > renversement du pouvoir > nouvelle domination)

- Sur l'importance de l'histoire qui n'est jamais que subjective, dépendante d'abord de l'historien qui la raconte mais aussi du lecteur et de l'individu qui s'en souvient ou pas. A travers cette histoire, un appel à ne pas oublier le passé et les enseignements tirés des précédents historiques (réels ou fictifs)

[Ian · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a very unusual book in purporting to be a history book with numerous references and extensive bibliography, but it is pure fiction and classed as novel. The nearest similar feat, to me, is Jan Morris's Has which appears to be a travel book, but is again complete fiction.

I think D'Ormesson's book works less well (than Morris's), it has to be imprecise with geography and dates otherwise it wouldn't work at all. However, the absence of these (particularly dates) renders it false. How can it be a history book with no dates ? Morris's book on the other hand seems so real that you find yourself looking for it in history books and encyclopedias and can't believe its fabrication.

True historical books provide context with comparison to other nations, contemporary events. This can only do so obliquely, one city is captured and ransacked and the comparison is made to events at Rome (350AD) and Constantinople (1453AD) but neither provides real comparison because this fiction is ephemeral.

In the end, it seems to me not much more than a clever hoax (or joke) that goes on for 350 pages, there are numerous quips and references to modern arts (Proust, Anouilh, Satre etc) endless references to learned professors (mock ups of Gibbons etc) and it does question the role of history and historical books.

Compared to Margaret Leech's Reveille at Washington also published by NYRB, which is a true historical book, I wonder why have I wasted my time on this ? What have I learnt ? - nothing. So why did D'Ormesson bother with the faux setting and not just write a historical novel like Robert Graves "I Claudius" ?

Beyond the concept - which is original, and the jokes - which are clever and satirical. This is whimsy taken to extreme.

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really, really wanted to like this story. I am a history nut and I love fantasy and I love fantasy written as history so this is the book for me. The setup is very interesting and the ideas are decent, but the execution is not the best. Ormesson will repeat an idea or a theme over and over and over again to the point where it becomes very irritating. I found it a struggle to get through and rather unpleasant as I was told for the hundredth time that the City was artistic or whatever. This book with a lot of editing would be an absolute blast.

[Amanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book messed with my mind in the best way. One minute I felt like I was reading a straight historical chronicle, then suddenly I realized the author was playing with the whole idea of history itself. The level of detail in the Empire’s customs, wars, politics, betrayals, and personalities is so deep that I kept forgetting none of it ever existed. It made me question how much of “real” history we blindly trust just because it’s written well. Brilliant, layered, and almost unsettling in how convincing it is.

[Vincent · Rating 3 out of 5]

Jean d’O réussit un tour de force : inventer de toutes pièces un empire immense, dominé par des conquérants fameux. Il y a le terrible et roué Basile, Alexis le prince mystique, poète et errant. La langue est superbe, l’ironie mordante, la séquence autour de Basile et Alexis brillante.

Mais malheureusement le début est un peu poussif et la fin s’abime dans des considérations historico-philosophiques sans intérêt.

[Noel Welsh · Rating 2 out of 5]

Rating purely based on personal preference here, this is an impressive book written by an impressive author, but I think that a full enjoyment of all the book’s gifts is really dependent on an appreciation of histories of the ancient world. Not the events depicted, but the works written about them. This, sadly, isn’t me.

[Sky · Rating 5 out of 5]

Epic. I can't find another word to describe it. This book is a masterpiece. It is incredible. I have heard Jean d'Ormesson was a genius but he was beyond that. This piece shows he was tje Einstein of French litterature. It is mindblowing.

A must read.