Don't Criticise the Message - Criticise the Messenger!
A Meta-Review of Gore Vidal's Historical Novel Julian

Introduction

	Doing an Internet search I came across only one 'substantial' book review on this novel. I would like to be unorthodox and conduct my review of this novel by reviewing in its stead this trite, elegantly nasty article and through a critique of this mere piece of criticism, hopefully, also with your help, come to realise a better appreciation of the true worth of this beautifully written, commercially successful text that was number one best fiction seller in America in 1964, the year of its publication. It was a huge success and returned him to the A-list of popular American novelists.

	Before turning our attention to this New York Time's book review let me say a few things about this Novel Julian. In 1962 a fragment of this novel called Julian the Apostate: The Beginning of a Novel was published with two other short works. This completed work signalled the return by Gore Vidal to the serious form of the novel after a gap of ten years (the last novel being Messiah, 1954). After the daily New York Times and other publications put him on an unofficial blacklist for having written The City and the Pillar, Vidal found his literary novels could not sustain him financially. By the mid-1950s, he was writing screenplays for Hollywood and plays for live television. During this time, he also wrote five pulp fictions under three pseudonyms - two of which he did not acknowledge or discuss for decades. A sixth quickie novel went unfinished and unpublished (the manuscript resides among his archival papers in Madison), and a seventh, for which he signed a contact with Avon, never got as far as the page. The text of this book was started in 1959 although it would appear from a comment made in the novel Messiah that this project was being thought about as far back as 1952. That novel's protagonist, Eugene Luther, talks of writing a book on the Roman emperor Julian.

	The book review I wish to review, with your assistance, was published in the New York Times, May 31, 1964  and is enclosed within. What I would like to do is read one or two paragraphs at a time, insert a few comments and seek your response - your meta-meta-review to ascertain if my evaluation of this 'critique' to be not much more than a criticism of the messenger, rather than a critique of the message, is a valid assessment… not that I am suggesting that Gore Vidal intends a message in any traditional sense? Although one might suggest, for example, that his criticism of the ‘Christian establishment’, conducted through the voices of Julian and his two friends, to also be a very biting satire that parallels Vidal’s own critique of the narrow conservatism of the Christian right et al in the ‘imperial’ realm of the then contemporary, and current, American politics.
May 31, 1964
Engaged in Life and in a Pagan Past 
By DUDLEY FITTS
	
JULIAN 
By Gore Vidal. 

A
s a genre, the historical novel demands color and movement. It is not history but imaginative re-creation; a kind of dream-edifice, based solidly (or so one hopes) upon ascertainable or probable fact, but essentially an excursion into romance. That it is often self-indulgent and irresponsible we do not need to remind ourselves; every season spawns dozens of these reconstructions, each one proclaiming itself more colorful and more colossal than all the others, and generally with a sort of inverted justice. Yet the sleazy, commercialized examples should not prejudice us against the form as such, for the data of dream and the data of fact may serve fictional truth equally well. 

The interpreter is everything. If he sets before us nothing but period derring-do and athletics, dÈcollete and sword-play, the forsooth-and-egad exoticisms of "researched" intrigue, he is only a salesman. He is making scenes, not significant arrangements. But if, like Gore Vidal in this evocation of Julian the Apostate, he is able to penetrate to depths of human meaning, to the chromatic play of personalities and events, his vision may create a design not wholly remote from parable or allegory. 

	One of the ways to set the stage for a negative criticism, or rather a negative sounding criticism, is to list a series of expressions with negative connotations without necessarily applying the same to either the author or their text. So Mr. Letts supplies a list of floating epithets such as… imaginative re-creation, kind of dream-edifice, an excursion into romance, self-indulgent and irresponsible, every season spawns dozens of these reconstructions, colorful, sleazy, commercialized… do we detect a climax?… and he is only talking about this genre of the historical novel… or is he? To give this reviewer some faint praise I do like his sentence, or rather, the phrase "the chromatic play of personalities and events…" But, even here, the reviewer, for what ever reasons he does not overtly signal, only commends the author with an indirect double negative when he states "his vision (meaning the vision of an author of this genre and possibly in this instance Mr. Vidal himself) may create a design not wholly remote from parable or allegory"… I can almost hear Mr. Letts choking at this point but, at the same time, relishing the limp manner in which praise by default was so indirectly and anti-climatically delivered. Indeed, we have here, perhaps, a critical review delivered by this critic not wholly remote from the genre of a book review, so to speak…

What it was that interested Mr. Vidal in Julian as a subject for fictionalized biography I do not know. It may have been his recent and not entirely satisfactory theater experience with another Roman theme (He adapted Friederich Duerrenmatt's "Romulus" for Broadway, where it quickly failed.) Perhaps he decided to explore a social and political analogy. In any event, it was a happy inspiration. Julian himself is a vivid and attractive figure, surely the most engaging of the Roman emperors of the decline. His reign was brief, only 16 months. In A.D. 363, at the age of 32, he was killed in battle; but his short career was a notable one, and it is not too much to say that the last months of his administration altered the course of Western history. Moreover, he challenges our interest and sympathy as a complex, witty, unpredictable human being. We know him today by the name his Christian enemies called him, "Apostate," though we do not much bother to inquire into the nature of his "apostasy," if indeed it ever existed. 

	What it was that inspired me to review this review I am not quite sure. This inserted 'potted review' of an unsuccessful "theater experience" is just another 'subtle' way Mr. Letts is suggesting through guilt by association that this work is equally a 'dud'. As I have I mentioned in the introduction to this meta-review as far back as 1952 Vidal was thinking about the writing of this work. Indeed a space of twelve years! Certainly not something written in response to some bad critic's review! Or should that be written some ‘critic's bad review’? Why this scurrilous critique of the author, the messenger? As noted in my introduction, the daily New York Times and other publications put this author on a black list for having written the homoerotic and shocking novel The City ad the Pillar. Indeed this august publication gave this work published in 1948 a "scathingly moralistic notice" as did most of the mainstream press and refused to review his next five novels. Mr. Letts is at least conforming to the received tradition in this regard even if he has broken this other rule of just ignoring this novelist. Hence Vidal's adoption of a number of non de plumes and the same anonymous works getting reviewed by the establishment unaware as to their true 'authors'. Under the female non de plume of Katherine Everade 'she' even got an invitation to speak at a women's literary society which his publisher declined on 'her' behalf.

He has come down to us as a kind of historical poke: a combination of bogey-man and Judas Iscariot, a philosopher who made fun of his own beard, wrote stilted panegyrics upon persons whom he sincerely hated, persecuted various deserving Christian bishops, ridiculed the Holy Trinity ("the Triple Monster") and attempted to re-establish the cult of the old pagan gods. We are told also, though not by Mr. Vidal, that he died in agony of Early Christian remorse with a verse of Swinburne on his lips: "Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilaean!" 

There are germs of truth in some of these details, but the picture is a distorted one. Julian's was indeed a Christian boyhood, if the fashionable Arianism of the Constantinople of his cousin Constantius Augustus deserves the name Christian; but the murderous example of his own family and the internecine theological squabbles of his preceptors soon disgusted him with Christianity, and his philosophical bent (which was genuine) and romantic tendency toward antiquarianism made it easy for him to see himself as a throwback to the pagan past. 

	The reviewer cannot help himself at this point and reveals one of his many prejudices, namely, a view of what he thinks is ‘orthodox’ or should be orthodox in Christian thought. "Arianism" is dismissed as only something "fashionable" when half the empire subscribed to this heresy at the time. Then, with great charity, he ponders in the form of a question, or is it a rhetorical question, that this type of Christianity might not be "Christian" and so using the word "deserve" one must hazard a guess that the "deserving bishops" in the previous paragraph were probably Arian by persuasion? Julian gives up this form of Christianity and in adopting pagan ideals this, of course, makes him a "thowback"! Is some of this mud-flinging meant to hit and stick to Mr. Vidal by proxy?

His attempt to reimpose the old gods--or, rather, the old gods as seen through a mist of Mithras-worship and degenerating neo-Platonism--failed because he was utterly unrealistic in assessing the hearts of men and in evaluating the theological and political forces with which he had to contend. He was a schizophrene, straight from the textbooks: a philosopher and man of letters, yet one of the most spectacular military commanders since Julius Caesear; a fanatical conservative in religion, yet a cynical and disillusioned exponent of freedom of worship; a sensualist, a man of the world, yet at the same time an almost compulsive ascetic. And, above all things, he was alive, enchanted with living, intensely and drivingly engaged. 

	I take exception to the expressions "mist of Mithras-worship" and “degenerating neo-Platonism”. Julian was interested in all the mystery cults in varying degrees and was well versed in a basic understanding and acquaintance with them, not being exclusively located in the cult of Mithras worship. As the state removed its financial support from the pagan temples (and gave it to the Christian churches), because these non-Christian institutions essentially relied upon the largesse of the state for their basic upkeep, it was natural that this type of religious impulse would be diverted and expressed through a more private, idiosyncratic personal practice. Furthermore, it must be wrong to state that all aspects of pagan thought and practice were 'degenerating' under this loss of state patronage and confiscation, etc., by the local Christian communities because pagan philosophy in many of the major cities flourished for another two hundred years until the venerable institution of the Academy in Athens, and similar, were forcibly closed by imperial edict in the reign of Justinian II (who no doubt feared this type of institution as thwarting his pursuit for an absolute monothematic-ideological hegemony to be imposed upon the fragile fabric of the empire).

It is this quality of flashing vitality that Mr. Vidal admirably captures in his book. One may have reservations as to the literary and polemical value of much that goes on in his pages, but the breathing actuality of his Julian is not to be denied. The form itself is favorable and flexible: a kind of diary, notes and observations jotted down by the tireless Julian, with a choral antiphony of comment by two of his elderly mentors who survive him to copy and gloss his manuscript. Needless to say, no such manuscript exists; but Mr. Vidal has drawn so intelligently upon Julian's actual writings and those of historians and theologians contemporary with the Emperor that the texture and tone of his narrative are persuasively in character. 

The expression "quality of flashing vitality" could be so easily misread as "flashy vitality" - the prior word "quality" setting you up to perceive it in this mis-read manner. But, then, the author of this review has some "reservations" - 'reservations' of them if I can borrow this term from a sad ongoing episode in Native American history. Because the same cliched formula is stated two paragraphs further on. And to reinforce the blunted-sharpness of one's critique there is nothing like repeating the same point to make your point so to speak. Needless to say this literary critic still manages to throw us a nice turn of phrase from time to time and his comment upon the "choral antiphonal comment" of Julian's two mentors upon his fictitious memoirs is intelligently drawn and very persuasive in character….

The neurotic, witty, pensive, reckless, domineering, sincerely humble young leader emerges so clearly that even in his less felicitous moments, when he sounds for all the world like the late George Apley trying out for the role of Shakespeare's Richard II, we believe in him and like him. It is evident that Mr. Vidal has learned much from the Robert Graves of the Claudius books: the freshness of the speaking voice in narrative soliloquy, the inevitable but discreetly managed modernization of diction, outlook, action. 

	Now its time to praise someone else, and by default, accuse the prime party under review of being a plagiarist. Of course the work then takes on an "inevitable"… meaning ‘cliched, hackneyed, uncreative’ appearance… "discretely managed" (of course)… and this is ironically intended, surely, being so completely unlike the well-known ‘indiscreetness’ of the messenger himself…!?

One has reservations, of course. The pageantry and local color, inescapable in historical novels, are too often touched by intimations of Hollywood. Yes, there are elephants; and dancing girls and tumblers; and jeweled fat eunuchs--platoons of them. There is at least one considerable Orgy, during which Unutterable Vice finds utterance, and there is one of the funniest scenes of sexual intercourse that an eclipse of the comic sense has recently permitted to escape into print. 

	Oh… now we find "unutterable vice" being mentioned by the author without being specifically mentioned. Now what could that be… this part of the text that escaped in "an eclipse of comic sense… into print"?

	More seriously, Mr. Vidal is generally unsuccessful in his attempts to demonstrate Julian the theological controversialist in action. The metaphysical speculation is so superficial, so text-book adolescent, that one wonders why those frightful bishops, hammering each other's skulls with homoiousion and homoousion, took the young Apostate so seriously in the first place. Here, clearly, Mr. Vidal has got beyond his depth and has innocently betrayed his hero; but the fact that this blemish does not impede the flash and drive of his narrative testifies to the beguiling power of his wit, his craftsman's sleight of hand. 

	I am disappointed… Mr. Vidal is only "generally unsuccessful in his attempts to demonstrate Julian the theological controversialist in action"… has "innocently betrayed his hero". I cannot quite imagine Mr. Vidal as the innocent sort. But then he "has got beyond his depth" (in the singular)… but with "the beguiling power of his wit, his craftsman's sleight of hand"… this defect is still only a “blemish”! Of course the reviewer is being ironic here… surely a "blemish" could be forgiven? Yet, set in its ironic context, this reviewer must mean something more like a ‘vigorous flesh-eating cancer’ rather than a mere ‘blemish’?

Plato once said that in the ideal society philosophers would be kings or kings philosophers. Julian, but off at the very beginning of his career, was of the caliber to prove Plato's point. Mr. Vidal does not show us this, and his failure is what ultimately keeps the novel from rising above the level of high entertainment. 

A poet and teacher, Mr. Fitts has translated works from the Latin and the Greek. 

	Needless to say this failure was a great commercial success as mentioned in the my introduction. Some failure! It would seem that this reviewer, Mr. Fitts, is out to shoot the messenger… because he knows what sort of a messenger he is don't we… the sort of chap that's best not mentioned… really… quite a failure…or should be! Not the sort of person this reviewer would want us to vote for as a political representative, as an American president, e.g? Alas…!

Conclusion 

	To finish this review, to date conducted indirectly by proxy, I would like to make the possibly shocking observation that the idea of the Christian Trinity (I daresay filched from both the Pagans and the Heathens), this "triple monster" as re-named by Julian, has been usurped and assumed by none-other than Vidal himself! That, in essence, he has identified with the three main voices in this text, namely, Julian, and his two mentors Priscus and Libanius. Moreover, the tenor, or message, of this ‘three headed serpent’ is nihilism, albeit of a positive life-engaging variety! Let me elaborate…

	It is obvious the author identifies with Julian. Indeed, I suspect the reviewer of this novel has felt as such. Why has he concentrated on certain qualities of Julian as if they were the author’s too?! No doubt he believes Vidal to be as much an apostate to his class as Julian is despised in Christian history? Hence the true source of his virulent criticism and the real of object of its attack being the very author himself - not some 'romantic' historical recreation of the past! 

	In many ways the more profound philosopher is Priscus who espouses a sometimes pessimistic nihilism, a sometimes optimistic nihilism but never a nihilism that is backwardly rooted in an affection for the past or fixated on a non-human future centered in the heavenly ideal of 'eternity'.

	On many occasions the word and theme of "nothing" is iterated in this text in a nihilistic setting… almost reminiscent of one of the soliloquies found in Shakespeare's Macbeth:

It is a tale told by and idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing!

	So for the reader who has not begun this tome, they might like to look out for the following pages where this undercurrent to the text is often presented through the written comments of Priscus, but, which, as a motif, is also expressed by Julian. For example:

	On page 51 Julian interrupts his half-brother, Gallus, from whipping Julian's groom Hilarius; the servant being whipped for absolutely no reason other than a crazed enjoyment Gallus found in setting out to take the life of another person through this cruel use of force. Here both Gallus and Hilarius say the word "nothing", noted in italics when Gallus is questioned by Julian. The text telling us, through Julian's pen, that, 'to this day I can remember the way he said, "Nothing".' 

	This 'motif' (if my intuition is right in this regard) gets taken up in various guises, which, through repetition, appear to reinforce the fact that the author is making a point or a series of closely related points? On page 84 in a comment written by Priscus (to be read by Libanius) we find: 

Why is it important to continue after death? We never question the demonstrable fact that before birth we did not exist, so why should we fear becoming once more what we were to begin with? I am in no hurry to depart. But I look on nothing as just that: no thing. How can one fear nothing?

	Then on page 81-82 Julian is asked by the magician Maximus if he was a Christian? Julian answers:

	"I am nothing."
	"But you must be Christian, for that is the religion of your family."
	"I must appear to be Christian. Nothing more."

	On page 292 we find Priscus speaking about how some guilty men are condemned to death yet escape punishment to live to a ripe old age whilst others who are innocent are struck down senselessly in their prime:

	Some live to be old; some are struck down too soon. Julian of course would have said it is inexorable Fate, but I know better. It is nothing, absolutely nothing. There is no design to any of it.

	In another comment by Priscus on page 401 we read:

	If the gods exist, they are kind. Despite oracles and flashes of lightening, they tell us nothing. If they did, we could not bear it.

	Then on page 140 we find the comment (no doubt equally meant to act as a commentary on contemporary attitudes):

	But argument is a vice in this city. Glib men can always score points of wiser but less well-spoken men. Nowadays style in speaking is everything; content nothing. Most of the Sophists are actors - worse, they are lawyers. And the young men pay to hear them perform, like street singers.

	I believe similar instances of a positive nihilism enter into the text on a number of other occasions. In the Classical world this style of philosophy would probably have been called Cynicism. Positive nihilism is not a negative nihilism, a very subtle distinction is being made here. It is a philosophy that seeks to neutralise the fear of death, etc., and seeks to existentially engage the person in living in an ongoing sense of the present. Through this nihilistic tenor or tone irrupting into this text it is my belief that we have a more philosophical voice of the author creatively en-chanting us with a deeper understanding of the tragic reality that appears to constitute the fabric of our existence.

	The third voice in this 'trinity', a.k.a. Gore Vidal, is that of Libanius. In his last entry, the last entry to this novel, we have the heading Libanius to himself. At the end of this entry is appended the following: April 1959 - 6 January 1964, Rome. I rest my case!

I believe this thread of positive nihilism to be a subtle philosophical undercurrent in the intentional formation of this text, contra the opinion of this reviewer, an element so subtle that having escaped the acute eyesight of our reviewer might lead one on to ask if he actually read this tome, or, at least ‘closely’ read it as befits his profession as a classical translator? Mr. Fitts in his review also states that the last part of Julian's reign marked a very important turning point in western civilization. Where he read that I don't know - he certainly would not have found that interpretation in this historical reconstruction. Julian's 'reforms' made absolutely no difference to the 'inevitable' course of the Roman empire and the legacy we have since inherited. Again, I must question if this reviewer had actually read this beautifully and richly researched volume. But, then, I should not speak ill of the dead… in failing to find on the Internet some original work by this poet, and much esteemed judge at poetry contests, I am sad to say, I was only able to find a picture of his gravesite, ‘currently’ in need of repair, and have printed out this photo I found should someone wish to review it. Alas, life is too short… and should not be wasted criticizing the messenger when our remonstrations might more profitably be spent, instead, reviewing the message…!

						Noël Tointon, Sydney, 15.9.02.