This is a dense book, but also a surprisingly easy read. Meier offers a self-contained biography of Caesar that narrates the life of the man and describes the culture he lived in. In the earlier years of Caesar's life, when we know less about him, Meier provides a broad description of what life was like for young men of that age. He indicates the probable events of these years when we don't have sure evidence of what Caesar was up to.
This book is really much more than a simple biography. This is a history of an era: the end of the Roman Republic. Caesar was one of the key figures that contributed to the end of the Republic, but as the book makes clear, such a collapse can hardly be the work of one man. Many other major figures appear recurrently throughout the book, including Pompey, Cicero, Cato, and Clodius. The first hundred pages or so describe the generations before Caesar's, including the Gracchi and the generals Marius and Sulla. These stories are almost legendary and a key for understanding the late Republic. Meier uses these stories to show how the political structure of the Roman commonwealth became ripe for a figure like Caesar.
I found this book particularly ominous given the current political climate in America. In particular, the end of the book describes a Roman Senate that is so weak in the face of Caesar's authoritarian power that its only defense is to bestow so many honors on the man that he became a target for tyrranicide. Our own executive office has been growing in power since at least the time of Nixon, while our legislature grows increasingly less capable of fulfilling its own basic expectations. There is a quasi-fascist candidate running for President, but even if he loses, our legislature needs a significant change in order to prevent future authoritarian executives. But, as the book shows, Caesar's rise is directly implicated in the legislative reforms pushed through by Sulla. So maybe the precipice is already far above us and receding fast, rather than in front of us.
For all that this book offers, I prefer the historical exposition of the first 200 pages to the historical exegesis of the last 200. This is an odd disconnect in this book between A) the need to recognize the atrocity of Caesar's actions (he did kill and enslave millions after all), B) the desire to point out how he was a product of his historical circumstances (if he didn't do it, someone else would have), and C) the seeming need to point out Caesar's exceptional nature (for which Meier uses the saccharine term "greatness"). Hannah Arendt has described the "banality of evil" which modern fascists induced in their followers, but except for a brief preamble about how Caesar's actions were clearly disatrous for human life and liberty, this book largely turns a blind eye to the banality of evil in Caesar's age. Perhaps that story is the job of a different book, but this book spends so much time on Item C, that its gestures towards Items A and B seem insincere at times.
Once Meier sets the scene and gets to the story of Caesar himself, there are whole chapters spent investigating the motives/intent of various social actors. This is something fun to think about, but so hard to prove. I appreciate that Meier often provides summaries of other scholars' takes on the motives of the actors, particularly because those scholars are monumental figures of their own accord, such as Mommsen, Hofmansthal, Gelzer, and Syme. I was disappointed that the book lacks a serious academic apparatus. There are no endnotes, and there is only a very brief discussion of sources and earlier studies in the afterword. The text itself definitely introduces and engages with many historical sources, but for a book of such scope, the lack of more academic resources is surprising.
I also would have liked more maps, charts, and timelines. The descriptions of battles are rivetting, but were hard to reconstruct in my head without more visual tools. Meier spends a decent amount of time describing Caeesar's generalship, and the book would be more accessible for all if he provided more resources to help suppplement his narrative. There are a few token maps at the front, but they are largely inadequate to the task of following the narrative. I also found myself in desparate need of a chronology of some kind. The text rarely mentions which year it is (although this sometimes appears in the title of chapters), and the vast number of interrelated events occurring across different provinces is hard to track. I often had to flip back several pages to remind myself which year it was and what the order of events was.
This book has been on my list for a while. It is one of the most famous biographies of Caesar, and it will teach you a lot, while also entertaining and stimulating with lively prose. I agree with other reviewers that this book could have been shortened, perhaps even by fifty or a hundred pages, and not lose much of its force. But this is what you should expect from German scholars. The extra time you spend reading this book will reward you.