RETALIO is awarded the B.R.A.G. Medallion!

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You see the subject line at the top of the email:
BRAG Medallion Award
You gnaw your nails.

You read the first line of the email:
We have completed the review process for your book “RETALIO
Oh, gods on Olympus!
You gnaw your nails down to the quick.

You read on:
“...and I am pleased to inform you that it has been selected to receive a B.R.A.G. Medallion.”
You kiss the computer screen and collapse back in your chain in relief. Then you pour out a large glass of bubbly, then a second.

More seriously, this is wonderful news. This is the toughest quality mark and award system I know for indie books; only 10% of books submitted make it to the award. Ten (yes, ten) readers have to give it their approval on the basis of title, cover, plot, characters, dialogue, writing style, chapters, copy editing, developmental editing and formatting. that’s one hell of a tall order.The ultimate question they have  to answer: would they recommend it to their best friend? Think about that. If you gave your best friend a duff book recommendation there could be serious consequences for that relationship. That’s how sharp that risk is.

Oh, B.R.A.G.? It stands for Book Reader Appreciation Group, in case you wondered. I’ve always maintained that the readers are the final judges. In this case they truly are!

And I love the additional comment:
Although I have not read the entire series, I did enjoy this book. I found the writing excellent and the characters and storyline well drawn. This creative account of fictional history is so believable that I had to remind myself it is made-up! It was full of action with a compelling story – I will go back now and read all of the series.

Can’t really as for more, can you?

 

Alison Morton is the author of Roma Nova thrillers INCEPTIO, PERFIDITASSUCCESSIOAURELIA and INSURRECTIO. The sixth, RETALIO, came out in April  2017. Audiobooks now available for the first four of the series

Get INCEPTIO, the series starter, for FREE when you sign up to Alison’s free monthly email newsletter. You’ll also be first to know about Roma Nova news and book progress before everybody else, and take part in giveaways.

One of my favourite Roman fiction authors – Lindsey Davis

Lindsey Davis with Alison at the 2014 Historical Novel Society Conference

I was lurking in Waterstone’s Tunbridge Wells one day in the mid 1990s. (It had an apostrophe in the name then so I’ve left it in for authenticity.) My favourite genres were historical fiction, sci-fi, thrillers and crime. Wandering round the tables and shelves, nothing struck me, nothing shouted ‘Me! Me! Me!’ I was in Crime, profoundly unhappy that I was actually going to leave the shop empty-handed. I was ready to commit a crime myself.

Turning to leave, I glanced down at the bottom shelf and saw a series of colourful titles by the same author. Ooh! A series. I picked one up. Oh gods, they were set in Roman times. Even better, in Vespasian’s reign – my favourite emperor. I scanned the back cover of Book 1 (The Silver Pigs) and laughed out loud.

Rome AD 70
Private eye Marcus Didius Falco knows his way round the eternal city. He can handle the muggers, the police and most of the girls. But one fresh 16 year old, Sosia Camillina, finds him a case no Roman should be getting his nose into…

Sosia’s uncle is a senator with suspicions. Some friends, Romans and countrymen are doing a highly profitable, if highly illegal trade in silver ingots, or pigs.
For Falco, it’s the start of a murderous trail that leads far beyond the seven hills. To a godforsaken land called Britain, to Emperor Vespasian himself and to Helena Justina – a lady leagues out of Falco’s class.

He should have listened to his mother. She always said girls would be his downfall…

I almost tripped over my feet getting to the cash desk with my £5.99. I returned two days later and bought the next one (Shadows in Bronze). Thus began my love affair with Falco. (Not him personally; Helena Justina would have had my eyes out and gently toasted them for supper while reciting an ode in elegant tones.) After I’d read all those already out I had to wait patiently for the next one.

What was so gripping about these twenty books? The accurate historical detail vividly brought to life, the complex plots completely woven into Roman life in the first century, the banter between the characters? Yes, of course, but it was the character of Falco with his outstanding individualism almost unrestrained by the social framework of his time. Beleaguered by his scoundrel father, hen-pecked by his mother and sisters, and ‘persuaded’  by the clever, generous and loving Helena Justina, he weaves his way, not always successfully through every aspect of Roman life.

Falco solves mysteries, trivial, brutal and imperial, collects taxes, reads his (dreadful) poetry, slaves in a mine, dines with emperors and travels across the whole Roman Empire. Over twenty books, he struggles with security, his urge to survive control by his womenfolk (daughters included), and his nemesis, Anacrites. He is a (generally) faithful friend to his old army comrade, Petro, and together they take the final step which every reader realises they must.

Lindsey Davis took a break from Falco to return to her first deep love, the English Civil War, in Rebels and Traitors, a massive 742-page volume with all the intriguing social, domestic and political detail of her favourite historical period. While it was undoubtedly a historical tour de force, and did feature the story of star-crossed lovers Gideon and Juliana, it was not quite what Falco readers, including me, expected. It was a ‘book of the heart’, I feel.

Master and God saw a return to Rome, but in the dangerous times of Domitian, Vespasian’s paranoid second son. Again, Davis presents the lives of everyday, if slightly special, people; Gaius Vinius Clodianus, a physically and psychologically scarred centurion, nevertheless an honourable but emotionally closed man, and Flavia Lucilla, imperial hairdresser with access to the privileged but dangerous  inner circle of the emperor. Cleverly, Davis tells us about the oppressive reign of Domitian while drawing for us a heartachingly tender story of Gaius and Lucilla. One to read and re-read!

And most recently, a new series of books centred on Flavia Albia, Falco’s British-born adopted daughter and already established female investigator when the first title, The Ides of April, opens. I had hoped to see my old friends Falco and Helena, but they are only referred to in passing. Lindsey Davis is concentrating firmly on her new heroine! The latest, The Third Nero, came out in April this year. (2017)

I’ve had the enormous pleasure of meeting Lindsey Davis four times and speaking at the same event once. At the Historical Novel Society (HNS) conference in 2012, I was so overcome by seeing her that I was seized by stage fright and couldn’t get a word out. (I’d been fine with Diana Gabaldon, joking and chatting.) By 2014, I managed some half-sensible conversation and even shared a social cup of tea with her. She’s friendly and polite, but crumbs, what a sharp intelligence! In Denver, at the 2015 HNS conference, I felt at ease with her and at the Wrexham Carnival of Words 2016 after the history evening, we ate chips and drank red wine together as all the speakers got together afterwards.

So I raise a glass to Falco, Helena, Flavia Albia, Gaius, Lucilla, Gideon and Juliana and to their creator, Lindsey Davis. Sanitas bona!

Originally published on the Discovering Diamonds Review blog https://discoveringdiamonds.blogspot.fr/p/g.html

Alison Morton is the author of Roma Nova thrillers INCEPTIO, PERFIDITASSUCCESSIOAURELIA and INSURRECTIO. The sixth, RETALIO, came out in April  2017. Audiobooks now available for the first four of the series

Get INCEPTIO, the series starter, for FREE when you sign up to Alison’s free monthly email newsletter. You’ll also be first to know about Roma Nova news and book progress before everybody else, and take part in giveaways.

Mos maiorum – 'Doing the right thing' in ancient Rome

Unwritten codes of behaviour, maintaining standards, behaving ‘properly’ are as old as the hills, at least as old as the Seven Hills of Rome.

The  mos maiorum, loosely translated as ‘ancestral custom’ was the unwritten code of ancient Rome. It included time-honoured principles, behavioural models and social practices that affected every aspect of life in ancient Rome – private, political, and military. It didn’t need explaining except to barbarians.

Of course, written law was the basis of Roman legal practice and jurisprudence, but mos maiorum was what everybody fell back on in cases of doubt or tie break, or if an orator wanted to call on core traditional Roman practice to clinch his argument. By its very nature, it was the core concept of Roman traditionalism and I suspect much eye-rolling went on by the younger generation when it was quoted at them by the older. However, going against the mos maiorum could be tricky as it was the social glue of Rome and beloved of the older generation who usually held the political and economic power in public and social power in the private sphere of the home.

Family and society

The Roman term familia is better translated as ‘household’ as it included every person attached to the owner’s family from the head of household to the youngest slave. Reflecting the patriarchal society itself, the head of a Roman household, the pater familias, was the senior male. The family hierarchy was traditional and self-perpetuating, supported by and supporting the mos maiorum. The pater familias held absolute authority over his familia including the power of death and the legal right to sell any member of his household including his own children.

The familia was an autonomous unit within society and a model for the social order. However, the pater familias was expected to exercise this power with moderation and to act responsibly on behalf of his family. The risk and pressure of social censure if he failed to live up to expectations was also a form of mos. Sanctions did evolve for mistreatment of slaves as the empire grew and women gained more rights and protections, particularly in the third and fourth centuries AD.

The patron/client relationship

The defining social relationship of ancient Rome was that between patron and client. In basic terms, a patron was a person of wealth and influence for whom the client did favours and supported, especially in elections. In turn, the patron would protect the client and hand out commissions, hopefully lucrative. A client might ask the patron for assistance with seeking redress or for advancement of a family member or himself. Having an influential patron enhanced the client’s status. Both words mean different things today, but there are still echoes such as when a distinguished person becomes the patron of a charity and lends that charity status and ‘pulling power’ with the media.
Although the obligations of this ancient relationship were mutual, they were also hierarchical. A patron might himself be under an obligation to someone of higher status or greater power, and a client might have more than one patron, whose interests might come into conflict. And, of course a client of one man might well be the patron of others further down the food chain. Any patron would have several or many clients who would attend upon him each morning in the hope of attracting his attention. If the familia was the basic unit underlying society, these hierarchical networks created the bonds that made a complex society possible.

Although much activity within patron-client relations related to the law courts, patronage was not itself a legal contract; the pressures to uphold one’s obligations were moral, founded on the quality of fides (trust) and, of course,the mos maiorum. Conquerors or governors sent abroad to administer Roman territories established personal ties as patron to whole communities which then might be perpetuated as a Roman family-type obligation.

Tradition and evolution

Suetonius quotes from an edict of the censors from 92 BC, ‘All new that is done contrary to the usage and the customs of our ancestors, seems not to be right.’ Yet because the mos maiorum was custom, not written law, it did evolve over time. Perhaps the ability to keep a strongly-centralised sense of identity while adapting to changing circumstances contributed to the expansion of Rome from a peninsula town to a world power.

The preservation of the mos maiorum depended on consensus and moderation among the ruling elite, but democratic politics, driven by populares (populist leaders) such as Gracchus who favoured the interests of the plebs (plebians), potentially undermined the conservative principle of the mos.

Gaius Gracchus, tribune of the people, addressing the Concilium Plebis (Plebeian Council) Silvestre David Mirys (1742-1810)

Reform was accomplished by legislation, and written law was introduced to replace what had been implied consensus. When plebeians gained access to nearly all the highest offices, the interests of plebeian families who joined the elite aligned with those of the patricians, creating Rome’s nobiles, an elite social status of nebulous definition during the Republic. The plebs and their support of popular politicians continued as a threat to the mos and elite consensus into the late Republic, as noted in the rhetoric of Cicero.

The mos maiorum could be evoked to validate social developments in the name of tradition. Following the collapse of the Roman Republic after the death of his adoptive father Julius Caesar, the ever astute Octavian disguised his radical program as piety toward the mos maiorum on his way to becoming the powerful individual, Augustus.

Symmachus

During the transition to the Christian Empire, Quintus Aurelius Symmachus argued that Rome’s continued prosperity and stability depended on preserving the mos maiorum.  The early Christian poet, Prudentius, dismissed this blind adherence to tradition as “the superstition of old grandpas” (superstitio veterum avorum) and inferior to the new truth of Christianity. Which brings us nicely to Roma Nova.

In a way, it’s an irony that the group of traditional senatorial families who left Rome in EXSILIUM in order to preserve their equally traditional religion and way of life had to abandon a proportion of the mos maiorum fairly rapidly and adopt a radical solution in order to survive. Roma Novan basic tenets and laws were written in a new Twelve Tables of law which evolved over the centuries, yet cultural and guiding aspects of the mos maiorum remained. Service to the state, the family as basic social and economic unit, interdependency, ‘doing the right thing’ and a strong belief in the Roma Novan identity and values wouldn’t seem out of place to a late Republican Roman.

 

Updated 2024: Alison Morton is the author of Roma Nova thrillers –  INCEPTIO, CARINA (novella), PERFIDITAS, SUCCESSIO,  AURELIA, NEXUS (novella), INSURRECTIO  and RETALIO,  and ROMA NOVA EXTRA, a collection of short stories.  Audiobooks are available for four of the series. Double Identity, a contemporary conspiracy, starts a new series of thrillers. JULIA PRIMA,  Roma Nova story set in the late 4th century, starts the Foundation stories. The sequel, EXSILIUM, is now out.

Download ‘Welcome to Alison Morton’s Thriller Worlds’, a FREE eBook, as a thank you gift when you sign up to Alison’s monthly email update. You’ll also be among the first to know about news and book progress before everybody else, and take part in giveaways.