The Kingdom of the Wicked

by Anthony Burgess

"Anthony Burgess' dazzling evocation of the fall of the Roman Empire and the rise of Christianity. From the sexual antics of Tiberius to Caligula's excesses, from the burning of Nero's Rome to the eruption of Vesuvius, Burgess has fashioned a brilliant epic of decadence and zealotry, sacrilege and faith. Stylish, extravagant and endlessly entertaining." USA Today

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Religion, Literature, British Literature, Literary Fiction, Christianity

470 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1985

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

Seriocomic novels of noted British writer and critic Anthony Burgess, pen name of John Burgess Wilson, include the futuristic classic A Clockwork Orange (1962).

He composed also a librettos, poems, plays, screens, and essays and traveled, broadcast, translated, linguist and educationalist. He lived for long periods in southeastern Asia, the United States of America, and Europe along Mediterranean Sea as well as England. His fiction embraces the Malayan trilogy ( The Long Day Wanes ) on the dying days of empire in the east. The Enderby quartet concerns a poet and his muse. Nothing like the Sun re-creates love life of William Shakespeare. He explores the nature of evil with Earthly Powers , a panoramic saga of the 20th century. He published studies of James Joyce, Ernest Miller Hemingway, Shakespeare, and David Herbert Lawrence. He produced the treatises Language Made Plain and A Mouthful of Air . His journalism proliferated in several languages. He translated and adapted Cyrano de Bergerac , Oedipus the King , and Carmen for the stage. He scripted Jesus of Nazareth and Moses the Lawgiver for the screen. He invented the prehistoric language, spoken in Quest for Fire . He composed the Sinfoni Melayu , the Symphony (No. 3) in C , and the opera Blooms of Dublin .

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

How much of history is truth and how much of it is lies?

But, as is well known, literature ceases to be literature when it commits itself to moral uplift: it becomes moral philosophy or some such dull thing. Let us then, in the interest of allaying the boredom of this our life, agree to our complementary damnations. My damnation is, of course, greater than yours, since I am the initiator and you are merely the receptor of evil recordings. Moreover, you may throw this book into the fire if your disgust becomes too great; I am committed to writing it. Take another cup of wine and accept that we human beings are a bad lot.

Jesus Christ is crucified but his disciples are still around – what can they do without their charismatic guru? They can tell stories and carry his teachings all over the world. And the more they tell the more miraculous their tales become.
But the wicked don’t care and never will…

[Derek · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anthony Burgess is one helluva writer. This book I'm sure was hard to pull off, though I'm sure it was well within his skillset to achieve the literary masterpiece this book is. It chronicles the early years of Christianity against the backdrop of decadent rule by probably the most infamous Roman emperors ever, Tiberius, Caligua and Nero. it's very anti romantic, very decadent and at some point damn hard to swallow, but it's an awesome read.

[Stephen Rowland · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fictionalized goings on in the Roman Empire during the first century. Impressive, sardonic, occasionally pedantic (but that's okay by me), climaxing brilliantly with the eruption of Vesuvius in 79. I hate myself for using this word, but Burgess is, as always, a delight to read.

[Isidor · Rating 4 out of 5]

The novel covers about 40 years from the resurrection of Jesus Christ to the destruction of Pompeji, recounting the spread of the Christian faith against the backdrop of Roman Imperial history.

In a novel with this scope, one can’t complain that most the characters are somewhat flat, with the notable exceptions of the apostle Paul, the emperor Nero and few others. Being somewhat familiar with the Acts of the Apostles, for me it was great being told this story by a different voice, with some of the religious and historical background that is not always provided in the original account. It’s done brilliantly, the facts never weigh down the story. Also, the appalling cruelty and sometimes madness of the early Roman emperors is well shown, with the right amount of detail, though the “Roman” part of the story sometimes felt a bit sketchy.

However, there were some issues I had with this novel. It is clearly the account of a sceptic, and though I did appreciate the author’s staying clear of pathos and sugar-coating, a few things were lost as a result. There’s quite a lot of conversion to, and also defection from, Christianity, but it just happened, no inner development of the persons, no plausibility. It might just as well have been the other way round. For all the erudition of the author, I found it strange that part of Paul’s message in this book was the popular misconception that if you live a good life, you will go to heaven when you die, whereas the evildoers are destined for the fires of hell. In fact, if you read Paul’s letters in the New Testament, the essence of his doctrine is sola fide and sola gratia, meaning that good works alone won’t do, but the way to forgiveness is always open.

And ultimately, the Christian faith appeared to be somewhat anaemic and very weak, all but collapsing under the first persecutions. If that had been so, I think Christianity wouldn’t have outlived the Roman Empire.

[Derek Bridge · Rating 4 out of 5]

I recently re-read "I, Claudius" (see my review) and was surprised at how little the supposed birth, death and resurrection of Christ figured, even though supposedly contemporaneous with the events described in Rome. Subsequently, the Apostles plus Saul/Paul, operating in the name of Christ, began to invent their religion and spread it to Imperial Rome, so perhaps the sequel, "Claudius the God", has more, and I shall re-read it.

In the meantime, I decided to re-read "Kingdom of the Wicked" by the brilliant Anthony Burgess. It covers much the same period as the Claudius volumes but balances events in Rome and Jerusalem. Which is the kingdom of the wicked? The depraved Romans? The jealous Jews? The vain Christians?

As ever with Burgess, it's all ludicrously clever, buzzing with Greek and Latin word-play, much of it over my head, but Burgess has so much fun, I enjoyed it all the same.

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

Irreverent, speculative and gripping, Burgess starts off with a muscular Jesus escaping crucifixion and heading for the proverbial hills. From there, it follows the apostles, as they spread their new faith, and Roman luminaries as they wallow in decadence as shadows fall over their Empire. I hope to reread this one someday, perhaps as a follow-up to a reading of King Jesus by Robert Graves.

[Divya Pal · Rating 2 out of 5]

Supposedly an irreverent account of the origins of Christianity. However, the turgid text makes difficulty reading for someone not familiar with the Bible and Christianity. The flippant nuances about the various apostles, lepers, water-in-wine and other apocrypha were lost on me.

[FP · Rating 3 out of 5]

Burgess debe haber estado con vuelo en los días que escribió este libro: habiendo escrito ya la miniserie Jesús de Nazareth, la novela respectiva Hombre de Nazareth (que no es exactamente una novelización de la miniserie, sino más bien un calentamiento para ésta) y el poema narrativo Moisés, que escribió después de haber escrito el guión de una miniserie italiana del mismo nombre (o similar), decidió seguir adelante y escribir esta historia sobre los tiempos inmediatamente posteriores a la muerte y (spoiler) resurrección de Jesús. La cuál, en caso que no hayan notado el patrón, también escribió como calentamiento para otra miniserie en tiempos bíblicos de la que escribió el guión.
Básicamente, Jesús ya no está y sus discípulos se quedan con la tarea de esparcir la palabra, inicialmente como judíos y a medida que avanza la historia, como algo más allá de eso. No sólo tienen que lidiar con los otros judíos, a los que cualquier cosa que salga de la ortodoxia les asusta y molesta por diversos motivos –algunos más entendibles que otros-, sino que también con el Imperio Romano, que a partir del emperador Tiberio en adelante van saltando de emperador a emperador, cada uno más hostil que el otro hacia judíos y nazarenos, con un contexto político que va cambiando muy bruscamente con el paso del tiempo.
El libro está pensado en que el lector conoce un poco el trasfondo de la historia (la sociedad se estaba secularizando ya para entonces, pero aún se podía confiar en que la gente sabía las historias del Nuevo Testamento), pero de todos modos es fácil de acceder para alguien que no sabe. Lo otro importante es el humor; no es una comedia, pero tiene mucho humor –como todos los libros de Burgess- en base a comentarios, ya sea en la narración misma, en lo que dicen los personajes o en algunos casos incluso ironía situacional.
No es historia, por supuesto. Pero es ficción histórica bastante decente. ¿Es la mejor narrativa de los tiempos bíblicos que he leído? No estoy muy seguro de ello (La última tentación es una vara alta), pero sí creo que puedo decir que es una de las que más me ha divertido leer.

[Caleb101]

All the great battles r remembered, but who remembers the names of the soldiers who fought in them?

[D · Rating 2 out of 5]

My experience with Burgess so far was excellent: both 'Earthly Powers' and 'The complete Enderby' got 4 stars. Sadly, the present novel, which seems to be a preparation for a BBC TV series on the same subject, is a big disappointment and I decided to give up about half way.

The subject is the history of early Christianity from right after Christ until (I presume) the death of the first pope,Peter, and Paul. All within the context of Roman history, starting with the death of Tiberius and the short but mad reign of Caligula.

Although the subject is not too bad, I found it extremely boring and drawn out. There's only so many times that you want to read about Paul raging against sex (except for procreation), an emperor dabbling in incest and murder on a grand scale etc. Few likable characters except Seneca, some other stoics, and the people from Athens that destroyed Paul's claim to intellectualism.

I've heard enough about religion, especially monotheistic sects, for quite a while now, thanks very much.

[Alex Robinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Learned, lurid, typically brilliant romp through the first years of Christianity and decline of Rome

[Robert Nolin · Rating 2 out of 5]

There's a trend (dying out now) in publishing for retellings of ancient myths. It started with Madeline Miller's success with Circe. Forty-some years ago, buds Burgess and Vidal talked about putting their own spin on the past. Vidal went on to become a master of historical fiction, and his works challenge the received wisdom.

But where Gore Vidal loves to topple our idols, like Hamilton (in Burr), this book is so close to the original I can't help but wonder what the point was in writing it. This is my first Burgess, and when he has Jesus walk away from the cross, it looked like it would be a similar sort of book to, say, Julian by Vidal. 100 pages in, it just seems a retelling--a dramatization, if you will--of the Acts chapter of the New Testament, with no regard for the historical timeline. Paul and Jesus were not contemporaries, for example. Supposedly, Burgess was a lapsed Catholic, as am I. But his book sounds like an apologia. Burgess still has one foot in the sacristy door. He has turned "Luke" and "Matthew' into actual men, which is straight out of Sunday school. All of the accumulated cultural baggage Rome added on is here pushed back down onto the known facts, so that we have Luke the doctor, e.g.

For a more complex, nuanced, and challenging look at the NT, I would recommend The Last Temptation of Christ. (The book is MUCH better than the movie.)

[Dana D · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.6 stars. It was pretty darn good, but pretty darn hard to read as well.

[Bryan Murphy · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a useful antidote to the romantic view of ancient Rome, which it shows as a brutal place whose famed empire exported its brutality on a vast scale. This is set against a romantic view of the early Christian church: the victim that endures towards an inevitable triumph. The problem for the reader enduring this long, laborious though often fascinating narrative is to distinguish history from fantasy. Roman history is well documented; early Christian history far less so. Burgess has the grace to acknowledge that his fictitious narrator is an unreliable one, but I think that is a case of praising with faint damnation. For Christians with strong stomachs, this is a good read; for everyone else, real history, however incomplete, is probably more interesting and certainly more enlightening.

[Stuart Field · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a fabulous book. Written by a lapsed Catholic and the writer of A Clockwork Orange this is a controversial, unsentimental and original take on the Acts of the Apostles and the Roman Empire. Burgess presents a St. Paul who is intelligent, determined and ruthless and a St. Peter that is provincial and all too human. We see a whole series of Roman emperors murder, rape and torture and their deaths.

Burgess knows his history and knows theology. Whether Jew, Christian or atheist you will be challenged or possibly offended by something in the book, but Burgess is intelligent and doesn't write to merely offend. He writes to encourage deep thinking. The genesis of Christianity is a fascinating story and Burgess' take is compelling and convincing.

At 600 pages it is a long book but well worth reading!

[Perry Whitford · Rating 4 out of 5]

The bravery of the early Christians and the bloodthirsty barminess of the three "bad" emperors (Tiberius, Caligua and Nero) brought to life in marvelous cinemascope by the exuberant Burgess.

From the crucifixion of Jesus to the sack of Jerusalem, the journeys of Paul and the burning of Rome, this is a breathless read about a seminal, extraordinary time in the development of Western civilization.

A fast-paced, entertaining ride through the tumultuous first century of Christianity.

[Michael · Rating 1 out of 5]

Set in the time after the Crucifiction, the Apostles set out to spread the Gospel. They argue about what is and what is not permissable in their actions as they face the opposition of the rabbinical court in Jerusalem, a number of mad emperors in Rome and pagan beliefs throughout the empire.

Difficult to read. Many characters and slow action.

[Emmett · Rating 5 out of 5]

A humanising account of the growth of early Christianity, from Peter preaching at the Pentecost to the death of the apostles, and the gradual progress/decline of the Roman empire, from Tiberius to Vespasian. The scale makes it remarkable for its virtuosity and ambition. I spent what seemed like forever reading my e-copy, and afterward did I realise the print version was over 600 pages long, and in the meantime the breadth of Burgess' vocabulary managed to frustrate my kindle dictionary translator. (Why no Latin translation, Amazon?)

This book attempts to fill in the gaps of the biblical gospels and the book of Acts, inking in vibrant hues the noise, bluster and blood of Pax Romana, the fuller life experiences of the biblical figures (picture Luke treating the sick, while trying to compose verse). It reworks scripture bringing its characters into our world of failings, necessities and limitations and making them real all over again. They were far from perfect. They were mostly clueless and confused and their actions are all the more moving for their humanity. Their words are re-articulated, punctuated with colloquialisms, made coarse, digressive, inquiring, relevant: 'If he rose again we rise again. If he took his flesh to heaven we take ours. And I don't mean cart our bones and guts up to the sky. I've been thinking a lot about this, Barnabas. It's a subtle business. The flesh is transfigured. We don't join the angels, who've never known the flesh. We're a new order-'. The novel dramatises faith at that difficult point of ignorance where there is no foresight. What does it mean, the novel seems to ask, to be saddled with grave duty and miraculous power when you were once ordinary? (Peter wonders if he ought to return to the fishing trade.) What does it mean to completely enter a new life? Paul, the late convert and educated man, serves as a fitting vessel for metaphysical musings. In one particularly intriguing moment, he wonders about whether the change of name was enough to change his nature (and perhaps addresses the abrupt turn from eager persecutor to courageous preacher that has intrigued many a bible-reader, one of the many unanswered questions lurking in the back of the mind): 'How far had be changed under the humanising influence of his blessed son? I have chosen you, Saulpaul, for your deathbringing rigour.'

There are lighter, more discursive moments that define the work not just as a representation of Scripture but adds to the colour and vigour of the depiction:
'I see. I become a character in a Greek tale.'
'But who,' Aquila said, 'is more real than some of the Greek heroes? Why should the pagans have the best heroes for themselves?'
'The Pauliad.' Priscilla laughed again.

The wry nature of the narrator, which I am beginning to see as a Burgessian trademark, makes for mildly amusing portraits (why, Burgess, does doubting Thomas sound Scottish?), and the many liberties taken and excuses made for them seem to be a signal not to take this account entirely seriously. In other cases this would be a shortcoming (why write a long narrative that's not to be believed?), but in this case, a fair question to ask would be: but who is entirely serious all the time?

[LW · Rating 2 out of 5]

Het is nog niet uit, ik moet me dwingen om verder te lezen, het is niet interessant genoeg, wat een soort tapestry leek te gaan worden, met rijke inzichten, blijkt een banaal verhaal te zijn. We volgen drie lijnen, de handelingen der Apostelen (en die ken ik al want ik heb mijn Bijbel gelezen), de Romeinse keizers (en die ken ik al want ik heb mijn Suetonius gelezen) en the little people, een Romeins soldaat, getrouwd met een Joodse ex-slavin en haar broer de ex-gladiator. Die laatste zijn niet echt, en dat voel je, je voelt hoe hij zijn best doet ze te creëren, er geloofwaardige details tegenaan te gooien, en je vergeeft hen hun onechtheid maar niet hun saaiheid. Het interesseert me niet wat hen overkomt. En dus zit ik met twee verhalen waarvan ik het verloop al ken, en een dat me niet boeit. Het bouwt ook niet op naar iets, want we moeten de geschiedenis volgen dus het is picaresk waar het de apostelen betreft, dan doet Paulus dat en dan reist Petrus daar heen. Enz. Ik ben dus ontgoocheld, vooral omdat de eerste twee pagina’s de perfecte samenvatting zijn van wat ik denk over religie en ik dat soort kritische noot in de rest van het boek mis. De wonderen worden niet gepresenteerd als wonderen maar ook weer wel. Wat is het nu, Burgess? Ervaren de apostelen de Heilige Geest of niet? Ik snap dat hij niet rechtuit kan zeggen dat het allemaal onzin is, want dan kloppen zijn personages niet. Wat zou hun motivatie voor hun daden en martelaarschap zijn? Ze kunnen niet allemaal oplichters zijn, ze moeten zelf geloven, overtuigd zijn, en hoe kan dat als ze niet meemaakten wat ze meemaakten. Maar Burgess zelf gelooft niet in de wonderen. Hoe pak je dat dan aan als schrijver? Je gaat er snel overheen, zo doe je dat, neemt zelf geen standpunt in, laat af en toe een apostel zeggen dat het niet moeilijk is een verlamde te genezen die nog werkende benen heeft, en dat niemand echt uit de doden kan verrijzen, dat Lazarus in een coma lag, en af en toe een kritische opmerking van Luke, de dokter van dienst, maar tezelfdertijd beschrijf je Pinksteren wel als een niet te verklaren gebeurtenis. Ik ga het gewoon verder uitlezen, omdat ik nu al tweederde ver zit, maar ik kijk er niet naar uit. Wat bezielt iemand om al die research te doen en zoveel uren te spenderen aan iets dat volgens mij niet bijzonder aangenaam is om te schrijven, door de bronnen te beperkt om voluit te gaan, alleen in de perversies van de keizers kan hij zich wat laten gaan, maar dan had hij maar een tweede I, Claudius moeten schrijven. Maar ik las ergens dat het als voorbereiding van een televisiereeks was bedoeld, en dan snap ik het. Maar het maakt nog geen goed boek.
Het laat me wel met de vraag zitten: waar kwam die levenskijk, die wijsheid van Jezus vandaan, als hij een ongeletterde zoon van een timmerman was? Boeddha was een prins en Confucius kreeg een opleiding, net als Socrates. Die laatste leefde in een milieu waar discussie geprezen werd. Ik kan me niet voorstellen dat dit het geval was in het Jeruzalem in het jaar 30. Dat was een religieuze dictatuur, nooit bevorderlijk voor vrijdenkers.

[Warren · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the reign of Domitian, Sadoc, a pessimistic and slightly unreliable narrator succumbing slowly to the ravages of disease, chronicles the history of the very first Christians, beginning with the resurrection and ascension of Jesus (which here takes place in 37, shortly before the death of Tiberius) and ending with the destruction of Pompeii in 79.

The enormous scope of this novel is almost Burgess's undoing. We follow the Apostles in their work against a background of the machinations of the Roman Empire, and we are taken into the boudoirs and minds of Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, Nero, Galba, Otho, Vitellius and Vespasian as they indulge their excesses, and deal with the Nazarene existential threat. If I were to find fault, it would be the occasional jump in the narrative, and odd patches of descriptive thinness that contrast with Burgess's usual rich detail. Together with what seemed to me a rushed ending, this suggests that Burgess might have been constrained by page space and/or time. That the novel was written as preparation for a screenplay (for the television series A.D., also released in 1985) lends weight to this speculation.

A longer novel would have done the story greater justice, and Burgess's extraordinary writing certainly had the power to grip the reader through many more pages than 379. In fact, to descend from his lofty, sparkling prose to a less extraordinary writer is akin to going cold turkey - withdrawal is experienced.

I will not attempt an analysis of the novel. Others do a far better job than me. I can judge neither the themes and conclusions that Burgess explores, nor his choice of fact to blend with his fiction. I judge The Kingdom of the Wicked a success by other criteria. A book such as this is to be savoured and absorbed.

[Aaron Cox · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kingdom of the Wicked is a great novel.

Burgess certainly had a way with language, and a wonderful imagination. I'm glad I started with his "religious" novels and the narrative poem Moses. I've become a fan, and I've added several of his other books to my "to-read" list.

I admire how Burgess handled revered characters from Jewish and Christian history throughout this book as well as the two that I read prior to this one. As I noted in my reviews of those books, he really brings historical figures to to life by giving them traits (and flaws) we can all recognize in ourselves, but he never veers too far into sacrilege or mockery. In this book, which also deals with the absurd corruption, immorality, and decadence of the Julio Claudian emperors, that would have been easy to do. Burgess also knows how to make a great villain - Caligula, Nero, and Ofonio Tegillinus, and Vitellius were all delightfully revolting.

It took me awhile to work my way through this - the writing is a bit stuffier than Man of Nazareth and Moses. I mostly read through it in small chunks, but I applied myself the last few days and knocked out the last couple of hundred pages. I think a more concentrated effort would have been better. There are plenty of great, new vocabulary words I could have learned, and plenty of Latin phrases I could have researched (more are left untranslated than translated in the actual text), but I must admit I did not stop to learn much Latin or to look up many new words. I'm no slouch when it comes to vocabulary, so I actually admire Burgess even more for peppering ignota verba throughout. I'm sure a more careful or considerate read through would yield some thoughtful or valuable insights or comedic twists that I initially missed. Maybe one day I'll go back to this book, and and travel with the Apostles again.

[Lucas · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The Kingdom of the Wicked" by Anthony Burgess is nothing short of a grand literary feat, reimagining the tumultuous era of early Christianity with imagination, insight, and a fair share of Burgess's characteristic humor. Undeniably, this novel deserves a resounding five-star rating.

Burgess, a linguistic virtuoso best known for "A Clockwork Orange", takes us on a historical journey into the Roman Empire's latter days. He paints a vivid and often brutal picture of a time marked by political upheavals, religious ferment, and cultural clashes. The narrative is ostensibly a retelling of the Acts of the Apostles, but Burgess's interpretation is anything but conventional.

This novel is, in many ways, an audacious undertaking. Burgess's decision to write from a Roman rather than a Christian perspective adds an unexpected layer of complexity to the narrative. The early Christians are portrayed not as saints and martyrs, but as troublesome dissidents in the eyes of the Roman state.

The characters are compelling and multifaceted. The figure of Saul, who becomes the Apostle Paul, is particularly memorable. He is depicted as a man of intense passion and equally intense contradictions. This humanizing portrayal sets him apart from the typical hagiographic depictions in religious literature.

Burgess's prose is, as always, a delight. It is rich, witty, and brimming with historical and cultural details that transport the reader to the heart of the ancient world. Despite the novel's historical setting, Burgess's writing never feels dry or academic. Instead, he infuses the narrative with a vibrant energy that keeps the reader engaged from start to finish.

In "The Kingdom of the Wicked", Burgess also explores deeper themes of power, faith, and the human condition. He does not shy away from probing the complexities and paradoxes of religious belief, and the result is a novel that is as intellectually stimulating as it is entertaining.

In conclusion, "The Kingdom of the Wicked" is a testament to Burgess's narrative prowess and his ability to breathe new life into well-trodden historical ground. It's a novel that challenges, provokes, and captivates, earning it a well-deserved place among my five-star reads.

[Lukeyboy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was not at all surprised to read in the author's notes that this was written 'in preparation for' a TV series he was going to write. It strikes me that writing a novel as some sort of warm-up for a TV script is not a reliable impetus for good novel writing. I found it crass and obvious. Some of the things he puts in the mouths of these (let's not forget) Iron Age middle-eastern holy men are embarrassing. Not remotely believable. Martin Amis once criticised the 'near-crassnesses of the biopic variety' to be found in Burgess's book about Keats, so he has previous form for this.

There were admittedly a couple of short passages that seemed more up to the task, where traces of the old verbal powerhouse were in evidence; a 'sense of genuine transport' (Amis on the Keats book again). Saul's epiphany comes to mind. And I'm still excited to read Earthly Powers and other Burgess. I just think this was rushed and ugly and without artifice (the paltry narrator, for instance): a not-yet-fully-digested response to the shelfload of histories he was obliged to read for his TV series.

I was specifically craving a pulpy historical romp, and I suppose it is that, but after charging through half trying not to think about it too much I couldn't bear the silliness of the characters and the things they said anymore.

[Charlie Randkins · Rating 4 out of 5]

Esta novela histórica trata sobre los orígenes del cristianismo, centrándose en la figura de san Pablo.

El reino de los réprobos del título es el imperio romano: una de las delicias - por así decir - del libro son sus breves pero sustanciosas incursiones en las vidas privadas de alguno de los emperadores más chungos. Así, vemos a Tiberio follándose a niños, a Calígula cortando cabezas y follándose a niños, a C-C-Claudio cortando la cabeza de su esposa Mesalina y luego follándose a niñas, a Nerón mandando cristianos a las fieras y follándose a... su madre, en este caso, etcétera, etcétera.

El libro son las supuestas memorias escritas por un esclavo griego más bien ateo, convencido de la maldad natural de los hombres y aquejado de estreñimiento, con lo que su visión de la judeidad y el naciente culto a Jesús Cristo está permeado con un humor ácido - las intervenciones de Jesús Cristo tras resucitar son descacharrantes -, aunque a Burguess se le nota que esos locos cristianos no dejaban de caerle bien.

No tanto los judíos ja ja ja.

[Phil Whittall · Rating 2 out of 5]

Anthony Burgess retells The Acts of the Apostles mixed with the lives & deaths of the Roman Emperors from Caligula to Vespasian & some fiction. It stretches from the resurrection to the eruption of Vesuvius and the destruction of Pompeii.

Jesus survives the cross (big man with big lungs apparently), Paul's vision was part of an epileptic seizure (which oddly never happens again). So don't expect a pious retelling.

Burgess prose has more fun with the cruelties of the Romans than the virtues of the Christians but does capture something of the surprising dynamism, spread & resilience of this new/old faith.

[Jason Wilson · Rating 5 out of 5]

A novelisation Of the acts of the apostles set against the wider background of Roman politics . One or two liberties are taken with both but this is enthralling and interesting in how it compares Christianity to contemporary faith cults . Refreshing too to hear familiar bible episodes described differently . The climax showing the destruction of Jerusalem is thrilling and the presence of historical figures such as Josephus and Seneca fascinating . The kingdom of light takes seed in the kingdom of darkness .

[Brian · Rating 2 out of 5]

I did 60 pages in this but found the narrative style difficult to follow. For example, with no other spacing than the end of a paragraph, and no segue or logical connection, we move from a conversation between two apostles to a conversation between Pontius Pilate and someone else about a different topic. I suppose the style was intended to conform to the idea that the narrator is telling you this tale orally, as would be the case in 33 AD. Perhaps when I am in a different mood I could work at this and enjoy it.

[Ezequiel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Me ha tomado mucho tiempo terminarlo porque es abundante en diálogos y en parlamentos que son muy teatrales. Este punto me pareció interesante, por momentos, casi hasta Shakesperiano, porque invita a imaginar de forma teatral las escenas. Ayudan también con gratas descripciones que parecen evocar la película de Kubrick “Spartacus”.
Muchísima similitud con “el reino” de Carrere.
Pd: esta edición venía con una nota muy interesante del traductor.

[Frank Jacobs · Rating 3 out of 5]

Despite the quality and wit of the writing and the illuminating insight into the cast and plot of early Christianity, this book has a number of glaring defects – the conversion of Saul/Paul is described only in passing, for example, one of several missed opportunities to explore the spiritual landscape of the times in greater detail.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting mix of biblical and historical times, weaving the Roman Empire with the birth of Christianity. Burgess presents some unpopular theories, urging the reader to determine their prior knowledge with potentially plausible alternatives. I enjoyed, from an historical point of view and moral point of view. It begs the question, how far are you willing to go for what you believe in.