First Love Never Dies...

Ever since the film The Eagle came out, I've been meaning to reread The Eagle of The Ninth.   I first encountered Rosemary Sutcliffe's classic piece of children's historical fiction as a child of nine, when it was dramatised by the BBC.  I fell in love with the hero, Marcus, a character for whom the young Anthony Higgins seemed like a perfect choice. 


My copy of the book is adorned with childish writing, stating that it first came into my possession on 7th September, 1977.  The illustrations have been coloured in (something which caused The Boss great amusement when he was leafing through it today).  Stuck in the front cover is a piece cut out from the Radio Times, advertising the programme, and featuring a smiling Anthony Higgins in stylish Roman Centurion gear. 


I hadn't remembered much about the plot or the writing.  In fact, I was almost dreading reading it again, in case the mature me hated it.  Marcus was my first ever literary heartthrob, and a lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.  When I was nine, I rooted for the Romans - now, as you've probably noticed, I seriously dislike them.


It's strange, but as soon as I started reading it, it started to come back to me.  And I'm pleased to report that I'm enjoying it just as much now as I ever did. 


As for Marcus...  He's still a lovely character, and a marvellous hero.  I adore him as much now as I ever did - if anything, I appreciate the depth of his character even more.  Getting reaquainted with him was a real pleasure - Sutcliffe's characters talk about how old Roman soldiers can be apart for years, but when they finally meet up again and start discussing the old days, it's as if they've never been apart.  And somehow, this is how I feel about this book.  I've changed.  I've grown up, and become a rather cynical archaeologist, but Marcus is still Marcus. 


And the most miraculous thing of all?  Marcus strikes me as being a convincing Roman, and a convincing Roman soldier at that, and yet I like him immensely.  He's part of an invading force, who struggles to understand why the benefits of his world aren't widely accepted by the conquered Britons.  He accepts the injustices that he sees in the world around them, but under that quiet exterior, he considers, and reflects.  I find the tone of the work oddly reminiscent of the early part of Dances With Wolves, so much so that I can almost imagine a sweeping John Barry soundtrack as Marcus and Esca trek northwards past Hadrian's Wall in search of the lost eagle.  I don't particularly care that the basis of the plot is spurious.  It's a great read, and I only wish I'd gone back to it earlier!


And yes, I think I'm quite relieved that I didn't go and see The Eagle.  I don't think I'd have liked it much. The tragedy is that the current generation of up-and-coming Romanists will have been influenced more by Gladiator and Rome than by The Eagle of the Ninth.


Ah well, they don't know what they're missing...

First Love Never Dies...

Ever since the film The Eagle came out, I've been meaning to reread The Eagle of The Ninth.   I first encountered Rosemary Sutcliffe's classic piece of children's historical fiction as a child of nine, when it was dramatised by the BBC.  I fell in love with the hero, Marcus, a character for whom the young Anthony Higgins seemed like a perfect choice. 


My copy of the book is adorned with childish writing, stating that it first came into my possession on 7th September, 1977.  The illustrations have been coloured in (something which caused The Boss great amusement when he was leafing through it today).  Stuck in the front cover is a piece cut out from the Radio Times, advertising the programme, and featuring a smiling Anthony Higgins in stylish Roman Centurion gear. 


I hadn't remembered much about the plot or the writing.  In fact, I was almost dreading reading it again, in case the mature me hated it.  Marcus was my first ever literary heartthrob, and a lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.  When I was nine, I rooted for the Romans - now, as you've probably noticed, I seriously dislike them.


It's strange, but as soon as I started reading it, it started to come back to me.  And I'm pleased to report that I'm enjoying it just as much now as I ever did. 


As for Marcus...  He's still a lovely character, and a marvellous hero.  I adore him as much now as I ever did - if anything, I appreciate the depth of his character even more.  Getting reaquainted with him was a real pleasure - Sutcliffe's characters talk about how old Roman soldiers can be apart for years, but when they finally meet up again and start discussing the old days, it's as if they've never been apart.  And somehow, this is how I feel about this book.  I've changed.  I've grown up, and become a rather cynical archaeologist, but Marcus is still Marcus. 


And the most miraculous thing of all?  Marcus strikes me as being a convincing Roman, and a convincing Roman soldier at that, and yet I like him immensely.  He's part of an invading force, who struggles to understand why the benefits of his world aren't widely accepted by the conquered Britons.  He accepts the injustices that he sees in the world around them, but under that quiet exterior, he considers, and reflects.  I find the tone of the work oddly reminiscent of the early part of Dances With Wolves, so much so that I can almost imagine a sweeping John Barry soundtrack as Marcus and Esca trek northwards past Hadrian's Wall in search of the lost eagle.  I don't particularly care that the basis of the plot is spurious.  It's a great read, and I only wish I'd gone back to it earlier!


And yes, I think I'm quite relieved that I didn't go and see The Eagle.  I don't think I'd have liked it much. The tragedy is that the current generation of up-and-coming Romanists will have been influenced more by Gladiator and Rome than by The Eagle of the Ninth.


Ah well, they don't know what they're missing...