Agrippina: The Most Extraordinary Woman of the Roman World

by Emma Southon

Sister of Caligula. Wife of Claudius. Mother of Nero. The story of Agrippina, at the center of imperial power for three generations, is the story of the Julio-Claudia dynasty—and of Rome itself, at its bloody, extravagant, chaotic, ruthless, and political zenith.

In her own time, she was recognized as a woman of unparalleled power. Beautiful and intelligent, she was portrayed as alternately a ruthless murderer and helpless victim, the most loving mother and the most powerful woman of the Roman empire, using sex, motherhood, manipulation, and violence to get her way, and single-minded in her pursuit of power for herself and her son, Nero.

This book follows Agrippina as a daughter, born in Cologne, to the expected heir to Augustus’s throne; as a sister to Caligula who raped his sisters and showered them with honors until they attempted rebellion against him and were exiled; as a seductive niece and then wife to Claudius who gave her access to near unlimited power; and then as a mother to Nero—who adored her until he had  her assassinated.

Through senatorial political intrigue, assassination attempts, and exile to a small island, to the heights of imperial power, thrones, and golden cloaks and games and adoration, Agrippina scaled the absolute limits of female power in Rome. Her biography is also the story of the first Roman imperial family—the Julio-Claudians—and of the glory and corruption of the empire itself.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Biography, Ancient History, Audiobook, Feminism, Roman History

304 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2018

About the author

Dr. Emma Southon holds a PhD in ancient history from the University of Birmingham.
After a few years teaching Ancient and Medieval history, followed by some years teaching academic writing, she quit academia because it is grim and started writing for her own enjoyment.
She co-hosts a history/comedy podcast with Janina Matthewson called History is Sexy.

Reviews

[Heidi Wiechert · Rating 5 out of 5]

Emma Southon gives us a fascinating look at a complex woman whom history has perhaps treated unfairly.

She starts by giving the reader reasons why the study of historical women is so difficult.

... we have just three major literary sources that mention Agrippina with any detail, and a total of seven literary sources from the entire corpus of Latin literature that think she was interesting or significant enough to deserve a single line; one of which is a play."

Like most women from history, Agrippina was mainly written about when she orbited important men. There's also the difficulty of potential bias in the few sources we have.

"She can be seen only through the distorting lens of her relationship to other people and how well or badly she performed the ideal form of that relationship. It's mostly badly, which is why we get to see so much of her."

But what's left when you take all of that into consideration is extraordinary. As the author points out, Agrippina was "the sister, niece, wife, and mother of emperors." There are few from history who can claim the same.

Southon uses an informal style and words like "stabby" and "murdery". I found her delivery rather hilarious and enjoyed it. If you're turned off by this type of writing, you may want to choose another, more serious author.

She doesn't neglect to remind readers of the context of every bit of Agrippina's history or point out when the record is missing or falls silent. Sometimes, the gaps in the record speak even louder than what was written.

"The next year, however, Agrippina came roaring back into historical narratives in the most confusing possible way."

I liked how Southon took complex concepts from Roman history and gave them to the reader in digestible chunks. For example, we get a glimpse of what portions of Agrippina's wedding ceremony may have been like:

"First, Agrippina the Younger anointed the doorway with fat and wool. Basically, she smeared some kind of animal fat onto the door frame and then strung wool between the door posts, sticking the ends to the fat. Obviously that sounds both disgusting and bizarre, which it is, but this is very symbolic and serious. Probably as these things were brought out, the party atmosphere would die down and everyone would watch reverently as this little girl covered the door in goo."

She goes on to examine the superstition of carrying the bride across the threshold of her new home which was another important part of the ceremony and nothing like the laughing, fun time it is today. It was interesting to me to juxtapose the modern viewpoint on these ancient traditions and see the glaring differences between the two.

Highly recommended for readers who like their non-fiction to sound like a conversation between friends. Southon makes the past come alive in a delightful read filled with scandals, power struggles and, of course, Rome.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance reader copy of this book, which is slated to go on sale tomorrow, August 6, 2019. The brief quotations I cited in this review may change or be omitted in the final copy.

[Mark Porton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Agrippina: Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore – A Biography of the Most Extraordinary Woman in the Roman World by Dr Emma Southon is a fascinating read regarding one of the most remarkable figures of classical history.

Agrippina the Younger was a great granddaughter of Augustus, niece and wife of Claudius, sister of Caligula and mother of Nero. If you let that sink in a bit, you’ll realise that’s pretty much most of the Julio-Claudian Dynasty covered. If they ever make a TV series about Agrippina the Younger, it would make Game of Thrones look like the weather report. By the way, her Father was the Rock-Star General – Germanicus (my mind’s eye has him looking like Russell Crowe – with blonde hair).

Agrippina the Younger was born in 15 CE and was murdered by Nero’s hitmen in 59 CE. She was perhaps the most visible woman occupying a position of power and influence in early Imperial Rome with the possible exception of Augustus’ wife Livia. As Caligula’s sister she was elevated above every woman in Rome bar a few Vestal Virgins and her sisters and was visibly a part of the new, bright and shiny (at the beginning) Emperor Caligula’s reign. This lasted until Caligula discovered she was part of a plot to have him killed – as he had turned into a complete nutcase, and consequently she was exiled for a few years. After some time, Caligula was assassinated, and she returned from exile. Instead of coming back quietly with her tail between here legs she strutted back like Liam Gallagher (the Author’s analogy) ready to swing for anyone who came near her.

The part I found the most interesting of this story is her marriage to Uncle Claudius – the ‘idiot’. It turned out he was quite an able Emperor and not as silly as made out to be. The Senate needed to pass a law to enable him to marry his niece, as it was considered incest at the time. One of Agrippina’s motivations for marrying the stammering, club footed Claudius was to put her front and centre in a position of influence and power, but perhaps more importantly to her it placed her son, Nero, well in line to become the next Emperor. Agrippina contributed positively to Claudius’ reign – her excellent networking talents (better than her husband’s) enabled her to foster relationships and make backroom deals with important players at the time to help Claudius achieve stuff. It’s also worth noting the number of executions fell dramatically during the period after Claudius married Agrippina – she ‘knew her way around’, it seemed she could smooth things over. But there is one thing the sources (I’ll mention sources in a minute) seem to agree on is, she killed Claudius by way of poisoned mushrooms. This to pave the way for the ascension of Nero to the throne.

Once she was mother to the Emperor Nero, she enjoyed celebrity visibility and a direct ability to influence her teenage boy. However, after a couple of years, Nero grew tired of his mum’s nagging and had her done away with. This involved a fascinating story about a collapsible boat, followed by a stabbing in a countryside villa. Nero had to manufacture a conspiracy to justify the matricide.

So, that is Agrippina the Younger in 30 seconds, but there is so, so, so much more to her story.

I think it’s important for me to mention the reliability of the sources. This author takes great pains to justifiably mention, on many occasions the (un) reliability of the sources (Tacitus, Cassius Dio, Suetonius et al) who are all – well – blokes, and all very much entrenched and have a vested interest in the patriarchal system which is Imperial Rome. The problem is not only they're men, they also wrote about her many years after the fact. Their illustration of Agrippina as being a manipulative, whoring, murdering evil woman, fits a narrative that suits the demonisation of women, their destructive influence on power politics and their belittling and undermining of men.

They must’ve been misogynistic to the MAX.

I left this book really feeling for Agrippina, it seemed to me she was merely trying to survive in a dynasty which was chaotic and surrounded by murder and skulduggery. She merely wanted to promote and advance her son Nero, surely that is what any woman would do? It’s just that she was very good at it, an excellent proponent of relationship building, and soft-power politics without being overtly obvious about it.

Dr Southon’s writing style is very easy, conversational almost – she even throws in the odd profanity, making it seem like you’re having a chat with her over a pint of best British Bitter. But it is clear she knows what she’s doing, she has clearly researched the main sources, and more – all demonstrated clearly at the end of the book. A very worthwhile piece of work.

Would I like to have a coffee with Agrippina the Younger? Perhaps, imagine what you’d be able to ask her – but I would make sure to switch our cups around before I took my first sip and I'd pass on the biscuits.

5 Stars

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

http://www.bookwormblues.net/2020/05/...


So, here we have a book that has me feeling very much like a house divided.

I’m very interested in women in power, and how they managed to weld their power. Throughout so much of history, women were second-class citizens, if they were citizens at all. However, despite that, women have managed to weld very real power, influence and manipulate events, and become major brokers in huge historical events. That interests me. How do people of the “gentler sex” manage to overcome all the stuff set against them and become huge influencers in their own right?

Well, typically they don’t just go out and grab power the same way a man does. No, women in history tend to have to be a bit more cunning, a bit more devious, a bit more like the wizard behind the curtain. What’s more, is typically when a woman does achieve some sort of power and influence, a lot of biographers distain them for it. So, you end up getting a lot of stories about the harlot, whore, poisoner, or whatever else people attribute to said women, and very few about how this woman, in the face of all adversary, managed to grab onto power with both hands and hold on. Context is lost. We know of Catherine de Medici as a poisoner, for example. We don’t really see all the misery she had to live through to attain the level of authority she did, and how hard she had to work to hang onto it, nor do many people take the time to see the reality of their actions outside of common interpretations and beliefs. Marie-Antionette never said, “let them eat cake” for example, but that and her hair are the most famous things about her.

So we have this biography of Agrippina, and to be honest, I was so excited when I got it. I could not wait to read this thing. Agrippina is known as being the mother of the infamous Nero, he of “fiddling while Rome burnt” fame. She’s rumored to have slept with her brother Caligula, and really, that’s all I ever knew about her. Likely, that’s all a lot of people ever really knew about her.

See what I mean? So many women in history we know based on who they slept with, and various rumors surrounding their interactions, rather than who they really were given the context of their day and age. A woman in power is often left at the mercy of the men who write about her after she dies/falls from grace.

I was really excited to read this book and then I started it I kind of… I don’t know. Maybe the excitement faded a bit.

This biography is written in a very distinct style. At first, I found it refreshing, but very soon, I found it to be exhausting. I read a lot of historical nonfiction, and I enjoy feeling like I am reading a book written by an authority. While it’s obvious that Emma Southon knows her stuff, her informal way of writing made me feel like I was talking to an enthusiast at a bar, rather than reading a book written by an expert in their field. Commonly used words like “bonk” really put me off, not because of the word itself, but because here we are, reading a book about a woman who may or may not have been maligned by history, and it was really, really hard for me to parse out where the truth rested with this style of prose. I feel like, perhaps, some of the context was lost in an effort to lighten the reader’s load and/or be funny.

Okay, so there’s that.

What I will say is that, despite my misgivings about the writing style, I did learn a lot here, like why and how Caligula elevated his sisters so high, and likely why rumors of them “bonking” likely began. It was also interesting to see why Agrippina may have felt a very real threat against her and her son Nero, and why this threat prompted her to move from relative quiet obscurity, to action of the sort that found her in history books.

What really got me about this book, however, is I felt that nearly everything Agrippina did was excused. There was almost never an alternative idea thrown out for readers to examine, and very few sources listed for what was given in the way of explanation. I, very early on, learned that basically everything Agrippina did was misunderstood, and other than some things being mentioned as written by contemporaries of the period, like Tacitus, there really wasn’t much for me to examine.

And this is CRUCIAL for any nonfiction historical book worth its salt. I don’t want to read YOUR version of history. I want to learn about HISTORY. We don’t know everything, but we can hypothesize. When an author is hypothesizing, they need to be able to present the facts as they see them, and then say, “from this I infer (insert stuff here), but there is also this other way of seeing things based on this other evidence” and there was hardly any of that. Southon lays out her interpretation of events, and is almost religiously apologetic regarding Agrippina’s life and actions, and there is hardly any real siting of sources to back her claims, though I will whole-heartedly admit that many, many, many of her claims are VERY believable given the context of the time period. The problem isn’t that, it’s that there were minimal sources and even fewer alternative perspectives and opinions given to examine.

Yes, I get that she’s a historian, and this likely was her life’s work, but if you’re especially going to go gung-ho apologetic about a figure that has been seriously maligned by history, you need to present your facts and back them up with some sturdy research and sources, rather than jokes and quips about people being “stabby” and etc..

And maybe Southon is correct, but between some of her more informal writing, where I did honestly feel like occasionally she was out to crack a joke more than write about a historical figure, and her very minimal sources all mixed in with her near worship of Agrippina as a powerful historical figure that everyone on the planet has misunderstood, I felt like I was reading a book written by someone I couldn’t fully trust. I wanted to trust her, but there is a whole lot of speculation here, and a whole lot of “let’s be funny” and “look at how misunderstood Agrippina is” without much “here’s all my research” to back it up.

Really, that’s a bit of a tragedy, because if Agrippina really is this misunderstood character, this woman who stood, despite the fact that just about every woman at her time was sitting quietly in the background, that deserves to be acknowledged, and it SHOULD BE, but it needs to be addressed in a far more studious, serious manner and there need to be plenty of sources to back it up, so readers can do their own research and make up their own minds. As it was, I read this book and now I understand that according to Emma Southon, Agrippina was incredible and we have all completely misunderstood her. Nearly everything she did was justified and excused, and her life was at turns wonderful, and extremely hard.

I just really, really wish it was a bit more scholarly, and backed up with sources and alternative facts a bit better, and perhaps presented in such a way where I felt I was talking to an authority figure, and not some drunk person at the local bar.

And the thing is, I really DID agree with her interpretation of the facts most of the time, but I was just left… meh.

Maybe I’m too picky.

[Louise · Rating 5 out of 5]

If more history were written in this style, young people would devour it.

Emma Southon notes that lives of women, even players like Agrippina, hardly appear in the primary sources. Only 3 writers give Agrippina any detail. Seven writers give her one line. Through their quotes, you can see how their misogyny influenced what they wrote and didn't write. Southon interprets these interpreters in a style that keeps you smiling while you turn the pages.

Southon shows how Agrippina is deserving of far more text. She is sister to Gaius (better known to moderns as Caligula), wife to Claudius and mother to Nero. She is the sole survivor of her nuclear family… all but her father (and maybe him too) died due to family politics. She didn't just have this family status she used it to position herself to have power. Southon helps you read between the lines so you can see how she wielded it.

After she connived her marriage to her uncle Claudius, she connived her son Nero’s adoption by his uncle the emperor, putting Nero first in the line of succession – above Claudius’s own son Britannicus. She got Claudius to confer on her a title and status similar to that of an empress - a position that had not been conceived nor imagined at the time. Given Claudius’s poor judgment and lack of diplomacy, Agrippina’s hand can be detected in his administration of the empire. She saw to it that Nero had no rivals to the throne and when the time came had no qualms about (and probably relief in) murdering her husband. Having a son as Emperor was not all she envisioned, he turned on her and had her killed.

To make the story accessible, parallels to modern times are drawn. Agrippina’s parents, Agrippina the Elder and Germanicus, are compared to the today’s royals: Kate and William. Far more compelling is the writing style.

The academic approach to writing history is a heavily footnoted text which buries the drama with cool detachment. In contrast, Southon gives the story its due, bringing it alive for the modern reader. Given the sources, whose biases are exposed, this may be a more accurate rendering of Agrippina’s life than previous academic treatments.Here are some examples of the hot and contemporary prose:

pp.75 When Gaius (Caligula) turns on his sisters Southon writes “I imagine .. a Poirot-esque show down in a villa you would die to own. The emperor … brandishing letters… cold terror dripping down the spine as Agrippina realizes her gamble hadn’t paid off… weeping …. recriminations… a messy scene.”

pp.110-111 Claudius’s wife, Messalina (mother of Britannicus) bigamously married her boyfriend when Claudius was out of town, “the pseudo-marriage is a headscratcher… Claudius heard his wife had married someone else within hours – because of course he did – and he sped back to Rome. Claudius was as useful as a brick in a political crisis… Narcissus handled it….”

p. 141 When Agrippina and her first husband were sent to Asia. “The point of having a colony was to be the pinnacle of Roman culture in a region, to be the show town effectively so everyone in the surrounding area knew how great being a Roman was. And being a Roman in comparison to being anyone else in the west was pretty damn great.”

In lieu of an Appendix, it has “Extra Bits”. The first is a Julio-Claudio family tree, then a “Dramatis Personae” chart, a Glossary and then a list of material for “Further Reading.

This style is not for purists. If you want some solid research told with attitude, this book is for you. The closest I’ve seen to this, besides works for fiction (i.e. Margaret George’s “autobiographies”) is Becoming Leonardo: An Exploded View of the Life of Leonardo Da Vinci which I also highly recommend for those who like sizzle in their historical non-fiction.

[Colin Baumgartner · Rating 1 out of 5]

This is perhaps the worst book I’ve come across this year. I listened to this as an audiobook, otherwise I certainly would have given up on it.

Dr. Southon seems very misguided in her writing. The text is full of the sort of deluded, mental gymnastics that allow people to believe the earth is flat and that all the powerful people in the world are actually alien lizards. Dr. Southon is not far from this sort of intellectual nonsense. Facts mean little to nothing here. She lazily dismisses any sources that go against her idea of what was happening in Rome with Agrippina. She also cherry-picks the sources that could in the slightest way back up her claims. She is quick to dismiss almost all the Roman historians she mentions as petty, chauvinist pigs who make things up to suit their own silly worldview—and then does the exact same thing from her own feminist perspective. In Southon’s world, all Roman men are bumbling idiots or cruel bastards, while Agrippina is just a clever and abused woman (Southon can, naturally, intuit what Agrippina was thinking and feeling at various historical moments).

In Southon’s world, all men view women not as people, but as “walking, untrustworthy uteruses.” Certainly some thinking in Rome wasn’t in line with the standards of today (there is that unfortunate passage from Pliny The Younger about menstruation), but I won’t dig into the absurdity of Southon’s position and the laughable ethnocentrism of viewing history through her lens...

I think what was most offensive about this book though was the tone. A professor in my undergraduate years promised to fail anyone who used “I” in a term paper. I thought this was a bit overdone, but now I am not so sure. Southon has a bad habit of filling her writing with the pronoun—and giving little pronouncements about what she thinks about things. This distracts from the actual events and historical figures and ruins any credibility her retelling might conceivably have had. I can now see why historians use a more formal tone when writing about history. Southon’s tone simply doesn’t work.

I usually lecture students about how they are welcome to use profanity in their writing, but that profanity has to be used sparingly or it loses all force and ends up making the writer sound ignorant or lazy. Southon might also take note of that. If I had a quarter for every time she used the word fuck without any real purpose other than to try to sound millennial and hip, I would be able to afford a real book.

[River · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5/5

Southon's writing is so easy to read, incredibly accessible and humorous. I loved every minute of it! It's such a brilliant way of discovering all the different reigns of the Julio-Claudian emperors (of whom I knew very little about before this) whilst looking through a more modern, feminist lens. I appreciated how Southon laid out all the evidence (or lack of evidence) and explicitly stated when her theories were just theories. It must be so difficult to try and piece together any semblance of a narrative throughout this period, with such a lack of sources, the surviving ones all contradicting each other and adding a little extra drama in here and there, or being influenced by their own biases. I really admire how well-researched and knowledgeable Southon is on the subject and am excited to begin my own readings on Roman history. This was an amazing starting point.

The Romans were a messy bunch! (But it just makes their drama all the more delectable!) I appreciated how funny and absurd it was at times, I loved Southon's very refreshingly modern take. It reminded me a lot of Natalie Haynes, if you like her nonfiction writing style I'm sure you'll love this too. But, for all its humour, it also held a lot of poignancy.
It was genuinely heartbreaking to read about some of the things that befell them, and it struck me every time Southon mentioned how often Agrippina lost the illumination of history, and how many deemed much more insignificant than her we will never get to hear about. Agrippina was only included in writings when she was doing something 'wrong', when she refused to be a good Roman wife or mother. It devastates me, as I'm sure it devastates Southon and other Roman scholars and historians even more, that Agrippina's own writings and memoirs are lost.

Although so much is lost or forgotten, it always astounds me how much remains. It's incredible that we have any texts at all from such a long time ago, that there are still structures standing. Even in the city where I live, there are still Roman ruins, so much history imbued into the place.
There's always a very existential feeling that comes after I read any book about history, and I find it so important to hold onto that. To think about all those history has forgotten and all those it will forget, and to know that those lives that aren't remembered were still worth everything to the people that lived them.

I want so much more! I want to read novels upon novels about Agrippina, about so many women and marginalised people throughout history. (I am a lover of the feminist retelling renaissance through and through!) It's so fascinating to read about such a wildly different time and place that also holds elements of the familiar, a place that innovated the structures that lots of our countries continue to implement. We still drive Roman roads!

I, very obviously, loved this book and it's definitely one that I will return to. I'm in awe of it and I hope to continue to learn much more. I'll definitely be reading Southon's other books, and feel free to comment if you have any other recommendations! I'd highly recommend Agrippina.

[Vivian · Rating 4 out of 5]

History is written by the victors and the hand of chance. After all, what survives affects our interpretations. The more geographically disparate sources the more one can feel comfortable with consensus. The more time between an event and a historical record the less it is an eyewitness account. What people don't talk about can often be as revealing as what they do. Southon weaves a thread using these factors and tries to provide a cogent argument for Agrippina's actions and her influence on the Roman Empire beyond the scandal figure.

By the time she died, she had been accused of having sex with her brother, her uncle, her son and two cousins. The only reason that she wasn't accused of shagging her dad is that he died when she was so young. Had the Romans not practiced cremations, I"m pretty sure that someone would have claimed that she dug her dad's body just to fuck it for some reason.

Was Agrippina really that bad? Let's look at her times, family, and political environment.

Maiestas was essentially whatever the emperor wanted it to be in order to get rid of a troublesome senator. To make things even more fun, there were incentives for accusing people of maiestas. If you, random senator or equestrian, accused someone and they were successfully executed, you got to keep all their money and all their house as a reward.

--Julio-Claudians made Game of Thrones look meh.

There were also familial reasons why properly burying their murdered brother was a good move for Agrippina and Livilla: it was good pietas. Pietas was a uniquely Roman concept and is untranslatable into English. At its most base level, it meant duty to one's family and country. But this simple definition strips pietas of its depth and makes it sound a lot more optional than it was. Pietas referred to various flavours of love, religious devotion, obligation, justice, gratitude, respect, compassion and friendship. Pietas also contained a strong sense of natural law and natural justice, as in concepts which were perceived to be entirely fundamental to human behaviour. 

--Going to slightly disagree and mention that this concept is not unique to Romans that Greek eusebeia is similar and depending on the manifestation of pietas it speaks to one of the many terms for love in ancient Greece. Also, Romans were incredibly superstitious. Political rivals would hire people to create disturbances during high-profile sacrificial ceremonies.

Until Gaius [Caligula] had taken the throne and made him consul at the age of 50, Claudius had never held a political position. He wasn't even a senator for much of his life. He was the family embarrassment.

--Sounds like a great person to have in charge with no checks and balances. Uncle and future husband material? Especially, when her first husband sounded pretty good.

His primary skills were making hilarious bon mots, telling people how funny his own bot mots were, engaging in weird japes and being very unthreatening. He was everyone's sidekick. Passienus was famous for three things: marrying Agrippina, a couple of witty lines and being in love with a tree.

--Honestly, this doesn't sound bad as far as arranged political marriages go. Not on the radar to get assassinated or bring the Eye of Sauron down on the family and mildly amusing. During the crazy 'murder everyone' time, this sounds brilliant. Plus, I kinda love him just for the tree.

This was what the day-to-day ruling of the empire looked like. It was a constant ongoing negotiation between the Senate and the palace. The Senate was essentially a massive, complex maze of obligations, ties, alliances and grudges. It was made up of individuals, all of whom had their own family names to protect or make, their own webs of clients, patrons and obligations, their own decade-long feuds and resentments, their own ambitions.

 
--Agrippina had been immersed in this world since birth. Beloved as Germanicus's daughter and granddaughter of Augustus she held an enormous amount of public goodwill. She was wily enough to suggest policy to a group of senators and as long as she remained on the side of the emperor's good will. Keeping ahead of that was a challenge. 

The Julio-Claudians sure made death interesting. Murder mushrooms, poisons, swords, elaborate siniking boats. Never a dull moment and always best to check around the corner. Southon makes excellent points on the amount of coinage on which Agrippina appeared as well as a town named for her in what is present day Germany that her father Germanicus conquered. And Germanicus was beloved by the people. Agrippina understood good optics and used it wisely. 

Julia Agrippina Augusta died at the point of a centurion's sword as dawn broke on 20 March 59CE. She was 43.

This was highly accessible and not academic-speak. It also has healthy servings of all the salacious gossipy bits, so recommended for general readers with an interest.

[Faith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Agrippina was the daughter of Germanicus, sister of Caligula, wife of her uncle Claudius and mother of Nero (who had her murdered) who was adopted by Claudius. She appears in the scant historical records when her life was relevant to the events surrounding the famous men in her life. She was particularly important during the reigns of Claudius and Nero. This book uses and embellishes those historical records. The author is very good at pointing out the source or sources used in her narrative, and she describes their contradictions. The book is very entertaining, irreverent, gossipy and fast paced. The narration by Teri Schnaubelt of the audiobook was very good and appropriately snarky when needed.

[Maddie Fisher · Rating 3 out of 5]

RATING BREAKDOWN
RATING BREAKDOWN
Characters: 4⭐️
Setting: 5⭐️
Plot: 3⭐️
Themes: 2⭐️
Emotional Impact: 1⭐️
Personal Enjoyment: 3⭐️
Total Rounded Average: 3⭐️

This was the first non-fiction history book I've read as an adult. It came highly recommended as accessible and about a woman (rare), and it delivered! I really enjoyed the structure of the book, showing Agrippina's relationship to each emperor, and the writing was conversational, funny, and relatable.

I don't think this book converted me to the genre by any means. If anything, Southon, makes it abundantly clear that there won't ever be very clear or prolific coverage of women in history, and that much has to be surmised or intuited from bits and pieces that aren't very reliable. It's frustrating and futile to look back at this period of history with modern sensibilities (and I can only assume many other time periods as well). I appreciate that Southon does her best despite the difficulties, but ultimately, it left a bad taste in my mouth. It felt a little like a book not just about Agrippina, but one written to prove the point that women are terribly mistreated in history, and of course, not even well-recorded. As there is no way to change this or hold anyone accountable (as they are long dead), I was left feeling bummed and annoyed, and wondering if any of what I just read was more than our wishful thinking about what this woman might have been like.

[Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship · Rating 4 out of 5]

An entertaining and informative biography of a powerful Roman empress. This book is written in a humorous, irreverent style that you’ll either love or hate—I enjoyed it, essentially taking this as the book version of a lecture by a knowledgeable and charismatic professor who livens things up by poking fun at the material. The author is a real ancient history scholar and seems to have done thorough research. I was thrown at first by the lack of endnotes, but there are occasional footnotes and Southon also regularly discusses her sources in the text itself—as it turns out there’s really only three that discuss Agrippina in any detail, and if written today none of them would pass the Wikipedia test for reliability, so in the end we can only make educated guesses about what occurred.

Despite that limitation, I learned a lot about Rome in the early imperial period—coming in knowing very little about it, this was a good primer on a variety of well-known figures, even while keeping the focus mostly on Agrippina. She seems to have been an extraordinary person, coming from a family where her parents and siblings were all dead (mostly of murder) by the time she reached full adulthood, after the exact same thing had happened to her own mother, but seeking out a life at the center of power: elevated and then exiled by her brother Caligula; marrying her uncle Claudius and ruling at his side; securing the throne for her son Nero, only to see him turn against her. Agrippina came from a society where women were expected to have no public role (though from the frequency with which they were sued and/or murdered, I have to wonder if this was honored mostly in the breach), but nevertheless built up a power base and seems to have been quite successful at politics. It’s a crying shame her memoir—political propaganda though it undoubtedly was—didn’t survive; as is it’s only referenced in a couple of surviving sources.

Southon is an unabashed Agrippina fangirl, but she tempers that by being clear when she’s speculating and separating what she wants to be true from what we actually know. Biographies of historical women can sometimes excuse selfish and harmful wielding of power on the grounds that it’s cool that a woman was doing it, and I can see why some readers would see that here, but to me it stays on the right side of the line. The author is able to make the case that Agrippina was a voice of reason and diplomacy who was actually good for the empire, while also acknowledging that the world of palace politics cared little for the lives of ordinary people. And Southon’s humor, empathy and groundedness bring a lot to what is otherwise a violent and depressing story in which most of the characters are brutally murdered.

In the end, a strong choice for those who enjoy popular history, as long as you don’t mind a somewhat flippant tone. It has whetted my appetite to learn more about the period, though it’s sad enough that I’m not sure I’ll be jumping back in too soon.

[Lucy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Maybe more like 3.75**** rounded up 🤷🏻‍♀️ rtc!

I think Agrippina is amazing from this!

[Stephanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I devoured this book in less than 48 hours because it is sooooo deliciously, compulsively readable, vivid, and fascinating. The writing style is sweary and exuberant and full of enthusiasm and humor - but this book is also full of really sharp historical and cultural analysis, fascinating insights, and really thought-provoking theories. It made me want to read a hundred more history books by Emma Southon immediately! I hope she publishes so, SO many more.

[BAM doesn’t answer to her real name · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oooooooo ancient Roman intrigue. It doesn’t matter who the book is about there will always be intrigue because more is known about the men than the women. However Agrippina is pretty interesting though. And the book is written quite animatedly so the reader would remember events. This book was interesting.

[Jessie Leigh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic biography of one of Rome’s most fascinating figures; an Imperial woman who carved out new spaces in the Principate during the rule of 4/5 Julio-Claudian Emperors. Smart, funny, and feminist. Loved it, want more.

[Marshall Kuehl · Rating 1 out of 5]

Southon is a truly awful storyteller. In her introduction, she begins comparisons with Agrippina's sources with a reference to Prime Minister David Cameron having sex with a pig. This shows her horizon limited to a sty on the Thames. She tries to shock with vulgarity. It is not a serious study.

[Noah Goats · Rating 2 out of 5]

For the past two thousand years our perceptions of Agrippina, the mother of Nero and one of the most powerful women in Roman history, have been colored by the fact that the ancient sources were deeply hostile to her for reasons beyond what she may or may not have actually done. Tacitus was a great historian, but he was also deeply conservative and the idea of a woman taking power and perpetuating imperial rule was appalling to him. And Suetonius was a gossipy scandalmonger who loved nothing more than to throw as much dirt as possible onto everyone (he's way more fun to read than Tacitus, despite the weird structure of his biographies).

In this book, Emma Southon attempts to provide us with a revisionist look at Agrippina. In her intro she makes it sound like the book will be a feminist reevaluation of a woman whose reputation has been blackened by hostile male historians. But she undermines her goal with her writing. Her glib tone and her failed attempts at humor drag this thing down.

Also, Southon rightly points out in the introduction that our sources for this period are sketchy, and it's best to be skeptical about extravagant stories that first appear in the record several decades after they supposedly occurred. In practice, this seems to mean that she believes the extravagant stories she likes, but discounts the ones that she doesn't. She likes to get up on a high horse, but then do exactly what she blames others for doing. At one point, for example she attacks other historians' attempts to explain Agrippina's decision to write about the breech birth of Nero as "passing anachronistic judgement" and then in the next breath provides her own anachronistic judgment of the decision. Both interpretations are equally plausible, but the low level hypocrisy grates.

Her grating habits are all the more irritating because a quality revisionist account of Agrippina is something we could use and Southon writes in a readable conversational style that would be fantastic if someone had red lined out her annoying habits and failed jokes.

I listened to the audiobook version of this, and the narrator did a good job. Although, Southon uses British slang and makes references to things like Channel 4, and the American accent jars a bit with the clearly British writing.

[BAM doesn’t answer to her real name · Rating 3 out of 5]

YOU GET SOME POISON, AND YOU GET SOME POISON, AND YOU GET SOME POISON

[Myles Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

First and foremost, I absolutely loved how fun Emma Southon made this book! The story of Agrippina was so captivating and interesting. This story encapsulated the power she was able to have throughout her reign. Such an intriguing and interesting story that I would definitely recommend to anyone who loved Roman history.

[Lulu (the library leopard) · Rating 5 out of 5]

I took a class on Roman history this past semester and after really enjoying it, I picked Agrippina: Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore by Emma Southon up on the recommendation of my professor. (I actually asked for this as a birthday present after the semester ended, which I think really amused my father.) Southon’s book is a biography of Agrippina the Younger, best known as the sister of Emperor Caligula, the niece/wife of Emperor Claudius, and, of course, the mother of perhaps the most infamous Roman emperor of all: Nero.


You might note how that particular description of Agrippina defines her solely by her connections to other men. That is a huge part of Emma Southon’s biography, which is discussed throughout. Divided into sections named after Agrippina’s role as a woman–the daughter, the mother, the wife, etc.–Southon dives much further in Agrippina as a fascinating historical figure in her own right. Agrippina: Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore tracks the life of a complex historical figure. With an illustrious pedigree that included Julius Caesar, Emperor Augustus, (supposedly) several gods, and a popular general for a father, Agrippina was destined for a life among the highest ranks of cutthroat Romans. Throughout her life, she was never far from the most ruthless of Roman power struggles, from her father’s murder at a young age and the targeting of her family under Emperor Tiberius to her (temporary) exile at the hands of her own brother, Caligula. But what Agrippina is really known for is her time as the wife of Emperor Claudius and the mother of Nero, during which she engineered her son into place as the adopted heir, (most probably) poisoned her husband, and was eventually assassinated by her own son. Agrippina’s life story is pretty wild, just taking it at face value, and that alone was enough to get me interested.

But Southon does more than simply recounting the life of Agrippina the Younger, instead delving into how the very narrative of history is constructed and the way the stories of women are often excluded or severely warped. Living in a time when women had very little official power or legal standing, Agrippina still managed to carve out a space in the sphere of Roman politics and gained not just influence, but actual power. Yet even when a woman such as Agrippina managed to grasp a measure of power comparable to their male counterparts, their stories were often distorted by biographers and historians to fit a narrative. In Agrippina’s case, a calculating and ambitious woman was frequently reduced to a power-hungry, depraved woman whose position of power was a sign of Rome’s degradation. Agrippina herself was certainly no saint (ex: likely poisoning her husband), but the few sources we have on her are wildly biased and unreliable (as Southon puts it, nowadays, none of them wouldn’t probably pass a simple test to source a Wikipedia article), casting her into the role of a perverted femme fatale. Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore is mostly an attempt to peel away the layers of distortion and rumor to reveal the real woman behind them. Southon’s exploration of what the reality of an incredibly infamous female figure in history was utterly fascinating as she dispelled myth, interrogated misogyny is source texts, and hypothesized about the reality of a woman who is equal parts fascinating and vilified.

Agrippina: Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore is also, to put is plainly, really entertaining. Southon’s tone is accessible and often shockingly funny, somewhat like listening to a very well-educated and slightly tipsy friend go absolutely off on a topic they have very strong opinions on. I guess if you’re looking for a completely academic book on Roman history (read: one that doesn’t reference the David Cameron pig sex scandal as a cornerstone of explaining the unreliability of political rumors, make fun of Roman sex scandals, call Nero a “neckbeard,” and swear quite a bit), this might not be your cup of tea, but I actually enjoyed it at lot. Like, Romans are wild–sex scandals! stabbing! dubious prophecies! debauchery!–and sometimes it’s good to just acknowledge that. Also, the tone often reminded me a lot of the most fun parts of the Roman history class I heard about this book in, which was exactly what I was looking for.

While I came into this with a fair amount of prior knowledge on Roman history, Agrippina: Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore would definitely be accessible to someone with less background. Southon’s tone is very readable and she easily summarizes any necessary knowledge of the Roman empire to understand Agrippina’s place it in it at the beginning. Overall, I’d really recommend this–it’s a great balance of laugh-out-loud funny, absolutely fascinating history, and and a thoughtful deconstruction of the unreliability of history.

[Julie · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was excited to read this book. Agrippina was at the center of a chaotic era in Roman history and the topic and reviews on Amazon and Goodreads sounded great. Within the first few pages, I was so turned off that I shut off my kindle. I thought the book was going to be a history written for interested adults, not a rewriting of wikipedia for an immature young adult audience. The writing is childish, condescending and boorish--simplistic syntax laced with obscenity. With respect to content, it could be great. What a fantastic subject. But there is no analysis here; no placing Agrippina in context with aristocratic women's lives in ancient Rome. It is simply a retelling of the few known facts interspersed with unsubstantiated assumptions and foul language. Below are some direct quotes from the first chapter or two--I could get no further

1. "She obviously gave no fucks about causing a stir"
2. "To make the situation more complicated, there was a third actor, whose main joy in life was shit stirring. This was Sejanus...You may remember him as Patrick Stewart with hair in the 1970s BBC version of I Claudius".
3. "Agripinna the Elder had no time for gender bullshit like not legally being able to engage in politics because she was a woman"
4. "In American politics the term 'optics' is used to describe the visual impact and public perception of an event. Good optics means that something will look impressive or pleasing to the public"

If you are an adult and like "1066 and all that" or "Horrible Histories", then maybe you'll get through this. Agrippina has a similar tone, but without nearly as much wit. Really, don't read this unless you are an 11 year old who likes history and wants to be titillated by foul language.

[⋆.˚ livia .☘︎ ݁˖]

when her roman empire is literally the roman empire…

[Jenny Hemming · Rating 3 out of 5]

I like the premise for this book, and the ambition to write accessible history. However, I find that the history is undermined by the writing style, which is just trying too hard. But if there were a prize for deploying euphemisms for sex it would win hands down. I also think that the use of popular culture references is fine in principle but will rapidly date the book. I’m finding these factors irritating enough to make me call a halt, but there is also some questionable historical technique: having made lots of valid points about the absence of evidence and the motives of writers writing long after the event, Southon falls into a similar trap, ascribing feelings where there can be no evidence.

This has the material for a really good piece of historical fiction, which would allow Southon to express her empathy for the characters in a more valid way, i.e filling in the silences of history, and provide a route into the period which she so clearly is very knowledgeable about.

[Shahin Keusch · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really loved this book. What an entertaining writing style. It was really hard to put down. Agrippina the younger is such an interesting and strong character. What she actually achieved is impressive. And she did this as a women in ancient Rome! 

This book is a good way to introduce yourself into the early history of the Roman Empire as Agrippina was around through most of the Julio-claudian dynasty. She was the great granddaughter of Augustus, the daughter of Germanicus, the sister of Caligula, the wife of Claudius and the mother of Nero.

If you are looking for a quick, educational and entertaining read about the Roman Empire, this book is for you. 

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is a series of stories drawn from other people’s stories about men. The only way through is to be honest about that. This story is as much mine as it is Agrippina’s, because I have chosen how to present the information I have. But it is a good story about a woman who deserves her place in history. It is about a woman so important that men do everything they can to hurt her by accusing her of incest, adultery, murder and child abuse. It is about a woman who ran the Roman Empire for a lot longer than a lot of male emperors, and about how the man who controlled the world reacted to that. It is above all, at the centre of it all, about power.

I was one of the Patrons of this book, via Unbound (https://unbound.com/) – the book appealed to me for two reasons:

My interest in Roman history, particularly in the late-Republic, early Imperial period:

My enjoyment of a number of female historians and fiction writers (in many cases writers cutting across fiction and non-fiction) who have examined Wars of The Roses and Tudor history (another favourite period of mine) with a concentration on the largely untold (or if told heavily distorted) story of the women (wives, daughters, mothers) of the male protagonists.

This book promised to bring the latter approach to the former period – and in my view succeeds admirably, while also producing an extremely readable book.

The author is excellent at pointing out the motivations that apply to the ancient historians coverage of Agrippina and which distort our understanding of her

Agrippina appears in the sources only when she is doing something that men think she shouldn’t be doing. Those five years when she was being good and quiet. Silence. Her entire first and second marriages. Silence …. It is only when she is overstepping the invisible boundaries of female behaviour that she gets noticed. So our sources show us an interpretation of one single facet of Agrippina as a real, living, human being. The other infinite fragments of Agrippina’s personality are lost forever. Certainly any form of vulnerability is subsumed beneath a narrative about her as a ruthless, cold woman, with a single minded determination to rule the world. I don’t deny that this is a pretty great story, but it is just a story. No one is just one story. The truth, such as truth can be found, is confusing, desperately complicated and contradictory.

And how that treatment also applies to other figures

Messalina [according to the male, ancient historians] is perhaps the ultimate version of what Roman men thought happened when women were released from control ….. a construction of pure Roman femininity. She didn’t plot, she didn’t plan, she just wanted to get rich and laid. Agrippina is positioned as the precise opposite of that …. She was not feminine in any way. She was not subject to her desires. She had a plan and she would subjugate anyone to achieve it …. [her] closest literary parallel – Mark Anthony’s third wife Fluvia

The title of the book is deliberately provocative – and partly reflects the historical treatment of its subject. The chapters, which act as dividers to the book and are themselves broken down into short sub-chapters, are titled Daughter, Sister, Niece, Wife and Mother – moving chronologically through Agrippina’s wife and her close relationship with the second to fifth Roman Emperors: daughter of Tiberius, sister of Gaius (Caligula), niece of Claudius and then his wife, mother of Nero.

Her descent from the first – Augustus (she was born one year after her great-grandfather’s death) – was an important part of her public image.

In a fascinating section, the author examines Agrippina’s clear public embrace (and effective invention) of her role as Empress and considers two options: that she believed in her deity, or (her own view) that like Augustus she was embarking on a propaganda campaign to “legitimise the idea of the emperor’s wife as a public and political presence” (just as he legitimised the concept of an emperor within the conventions of the Republic).

I also particularly enjoyed her careful examination of the influence that Agrippina had on the success of Claudius’s reign (judged by the constrast between his behaviour and effectiveness when she was his wife and that before their marriage) and of the way in which she influenced Claudius to promote Nero as his inevitable heir, as a way to ensure stability and continuity for the empire.

Despite her clear admiration for her subject, and well-reasoned dismissal of much of the historical slander aimed at her, the author clearly admits the likelihood of her having Claudius killed (given the clear consensus in all sources) and the likely reason for her actions (Brittanicus getting older and Claudius starting to vacillate on his choice of heir).

Overall an excellent book – one I am proud to have played a very small part in supporting.

[whatrissread on TT | IG | YT · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.75 ⭐️

Phenomenal audiobook! The sass that Southon writes with helps drive the story. To be a woman during this time, wildddddd. Men suck LOL

[Carol Tilley · Rating 5 out of 5]

A rollicking good history.

[Mat Marshall · Rating 3 out of 5]

I appreciate what Southon is doing here — pulling back the curtain on not only this woman, but on how history has erased all Roman women, and I think she does it in a format that can appeal not only to those who read plenty of history but also and especially those who shy away from it because of how stodgy the writing style can be. Her language is vulgar in every sense of the word, and I think that’s justifiable when you’re writing to a mass audience about an era where something as simple as a character’s name can become a topic of confusion. All positives and for those reasons I would recommend it to others.

For me personally, though, it just doesn’t land. I love jokes and bad words, but Southon’s Sonic-The-Hedgehog-Smirk-With-Crossed-Arms writing just felt a little tryhard by the end of the book, and for me that distracted from her subject matter. It just seems like every other line was a bouncing eyebrow, and while the first couple instances were almost refreshing it was just stale by the end of the book. YMMV.

Separately — and this is not at all unique to this book — I find that too many writers in this genre seem to toe the line into a kind of punditry where they spoonfeed the reader a conclusion. Southon is no guiltier of this than any nonfiction best seller, but I think it should give readers pause when authors strain too hard to extract a clean narrative or thesis out of history. Some of that is necessary to structure a book, but I also feel like it lends itself to an overly deterministic, dramatized, and ultimately flattened view of events that readers should instead get the opportunity to understand and interpret on their own, with all their contradictions.

History doesn’t have to be (and is not) dry and boring, and I think it’s probably a good thing for pop historians writing to a mass audience to experiment with meatier writing. I’ll probably try another of Southon’s books to see if it lands better. But this one doesn’t quite stick the landing for me.

[Hank Cox · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book is poorly written, seemingly at the level of a high school history essay. The author interjects way too many of her personal observations; for example, on pg. 64, when discussing the maiestas trials: "If you ... accused someone and they were successfully executed, you got to keep all their money and all their houses as a reward! Isn't that great and not at all terrible!". The second sentence, with the exclamation point, is useless. One can almost hear the breathless excitement as the author reads that aloud. And, leading into my second major complaint, the author is often incorrect in her statements. In the above example, you, as the accuser, don't get to keep all of the convicted persons property; the bulk of it went to the state, in these cases, the emperor; you, as the accuser, do get to keep a percentage, but not all.

Another, more serious mistake, occurs on pg. 46. "there were plenty of other men lurking around who had perfectly good Julian or Claudian blood and who wouldn't have minded being the regent to an 18-year-old emperor. Here, the author is discussing the possible succession of Tiberius Gemellus. First big mistake: the Roman principate had no mechanism in place for the position of regent. It's utter nonsense to talk about it. Second big mistake: at 18 years old, Tiberius Gemellus was an adult and wouldn't have required a regent in order to rule.

In the introduction, the author accuses Suetonius and Tacitus of being moralizing. The same charge can be leveled at the author, perhaps even more so, since she is supposed to be a modern historian.

So, my recommendation is, read this book if you must, but read it as entertainment, not as a serious work of history.

[Thomas · Rating 1 out of 5]

There are a lot of names for the brand of feminism which Southon employs in this book: neoliberal feminism, white feminism, girl boss feminism. All of them get to the same point: not intersectional, and only interested in the liberation of women who belong to the ruling class.

To be sure, the life and times of Agrippina the Younger are fascinating, and her achievements noteworthy, but every success and luxury Agrippina fought for in her life was built on the back of the genocide and exploitation of millions of people at the hands of an imperial power. Southon is capable of seeing these patterns, she has no shortage of zingers and quips aimed at the violent and chauvinistic men in the narrative, but these make it all the more startling that she chose to not examine Agrippina’s privilege as well. It is shocking to me how a PhD scholar could write something so lacking in intersectionality in 2019.

The flippant tone throughout the book may have worked if she had actually held the ruling class of 1st century Rome to account in totality, but as is, it comes across as tone-deaf and pandering.

An example of a book that does what Southon was trying to do quite well is “You Never Forget Your First,” by Alexis Coe, which is informative, entertainingly irreverent, and actually holds George Washington to account for his abuses and cruelties. Agrippina owned slaves, and directly benefited from numerous imperial and colonial projects she helped oversee. This was not a groundbreaking moment for feminism. Agrippina oppressed millions of women in the course of her life.

This book is an embarrassing mis-carriage of historical analysis, and as a feminist work it does more to advance reactionary causes than it does gender liberation.

[Hannah Miller · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm very conflicted about this book. Southon writes a story that is simultaneously entertaining and readable but also horribly written and jarring?? Who am I to say something is badly written when my journal sounds like a 15 year old wrote it? But really...the first two chapters almost had me put it down. She spends the entire book accusing ancient historians of theorizing about the thoughts of Agrippina while she does the exact same thing while throwing the F word on every other page. She does at least begin these projected thoughts with "I assume..." etc. But it just comes across as "Look how much of a badass, girl boss Agrippina was." Which...she was...but it's a very unserious way to discuss her and looks at it all through a very modern lense. Mixed in there are decent discussions made without this flaw but the rest of it just takes so much away from the book. If this were submitted as a serious piece of writing in an educational setting, it would be ripped apart. She would have been better served just writing a historical fiction novel.