John Williams only wrote three books once he became a mature writer—his first he disowned—and they're all excellent. Unfortunately, this book is the last of the three I've read. There's a peculiar sadness when you finish the last book by one of your favorite deceased authors, the usual morose feeling of leaving a world only compounded by the knowledge you'll never again hear that voice for the first time. Kind of a bummer.

The first surprise of this book was John Williams ratcheting up the difficulty from his earlier works; while Butcher's Crossing and Stoner describe a single person's point-of-view, explaining the life of the first Roman emperor is too much for that approach. So Williams goes with an epistolary structure, all the better to stay closest to his characters and remain their vivid qualities. We see Augustus struggle to gain and maintain power, but with a burden (a debt?) that only becomes clear in the waning pages.

It's kind of frustrating to review Williams stuff, because it's so fully-formed and cohesive that it seems a crime to pick it apart and analyze what works and why it does. I just want to buy a bunch of copies of his stuff and run around shoving it into people's hands instead. I will say, though, that John Williams's amazing strength comes from an amazing grasp of reflective intimacy. It's really unlike any other author I've read, and he'll flip into that mode for the last 20-25 pages of each novel and absolutely nail it. It makes for the best endings, and some of the best writing I've read.

I'd advise starting with Stoner if you're going to tackle Williams, but it's hard not to recommend this book wholeheartedly too.