In Republican Rome, few women were quite as (in)famous as Clodia. In part this was due to the behavior of her brother, Clodius, who earned a reputation for being a bit of a rabble-rouser and for flouting the various expectations and social niceties of polite Republican society. Among other things, he aroused quite a scandal when, dressed as a woman, he invaded the sacred Bona Dea, a sacred gathering at which only women were supposed to be present. Indeed, the scandal rocked all of Rome, and it even led to Julius Caesar divorcing his wife (leading to the saying that “Caesar’s wife must be above suspicion.”) Thanks in no small part to Cicero, who pilloried Clodia while her former lover was on trial, history has largely regarded her as a temptress and an infamous Jezebel-like figure.

Now, Clodia is at last getting her due in Clodia of Rome: Champion of the Republic, the new biography by Douglas Boin. As he has done in his other books, Boin draws out the complexities of the real story. In his energetic and unsparing voice we learn about her ancestry, her life, and the world around her. As a result, we get a much more nuanced appreciation of Clodia and the role that she played in the last few decades of the Republic. Far from being a simple Jezebel and a maneater, Boin illustrates that she was a woman ahead of her time who, as a result, was looked at with suspicion by the powerful men who surrounded her and ruled over Rome.

Particularly notable was the fact that Clodia, unlike many other women, did not remarry after the death of her husband but instead set herself up as a wealthy widow. This isn’t to say that she didn’t take lovers, because she most certainly did, including the very man that she would later publicly accuse of attempting to poison her. It was this whole event that led to her impugning by Cicero, who also wanted to damage her brother who, for his part, also wanted to damage Cicero. Much of the subsequent condemnation of Clodia, Boin argues, can be traced directly back to Cicero’s scathing speech Pro Caelio.

Indeed, Boin goes even further, suggesting that it was thanks to Cicero’s speech that subsequent generations of Roman men were so insistent on ensuring that other women stayed in their place. Who could forget, for example, Augustus’ strenuous efforts to impose his own very prudish definitions of morality onto the Roman state that he had already re-made in his own image? In some ways, Clodia’s life story was only made possible by the nature of the Republic and the foment that was taking place all around her at all levels, from the agitation of the various city-states of Italy for full participation to the rabble-rousing of some politicians–including Clodius–to make life better for those who occupied the lower ranks of the social ladder.

Thus, as much as the book is about Clodia and her highly controversial career as one of the most famous women of Republican Rome, it’s also about the Republic itself and its last years. Boin skillfully moves between the various social classes that comprised Roman society, showing how the institutions that had governed Roman society for so long were beginning to creak and crumble under relentless pressure from both without and within. He also has a keen eye for material culture, and he gives us a good idea of the kind of luxuries with which Clodia would have been surrounded and which she would have used. If you were living in the late Republic, there were few places that you would rather live than on Palatine Hill.

At the same time, Boin also situates Clodia in the midst of both her own family and the other remarkable women of antiquity who preceded and succeeded her. Clodia hailed from one of the most august families in Rome, with ancestors who were responsible for some of the most notable public works of the Republic, including the magnificent road known as the Appian Way. Given this pedigree, and the family’s commitment to the public good, is it any wonder that Clodia and her brother became so involved in the various political causes and factions that attempted to make life better for the masses?

Just as importantly, we also gain insight into the many fascinating women of antiquity whose lives, and works, have largely vanished from history. These were women who wrote poems and jokes and plays, who showed that they were just as capable of being creative as any man. However, their lives and works–and even the statues made to celebrate them and their accomplishments–were ultimately consigned to the mists of history. Today only fragments survive of their corpus, and it’s often only an accident that we have them at all. Just as our knowledge of Clodia’s life tapers off towards its end, so these women remain shrouded in mystery.

If I have one complaint about this book, it’s that there are times when Clodia herself sometimes recedes into the background, obscured by the times in which she lived and the other great figures that were staking their claim on posterity. To some degree this is understandable, since there’s relatively little known about Clodia from the sources. Even her position as Lesbia, the muse of the tortured and lustful Catullus, isn’t 100% certain (and Boin seems to think it more likely that Catullus’ inspiration was another Clodia altogether). Still, I would have liked to see some more biographical detail about Clodia herself.

For all of that, I did find myself devouring this book. Boin has the knack for being both accessible and rigorous in his discussion of ancient Rome. He amply shows how one woman could be a key part of the world that surrounded her while also giving us some important insights into who she was and why she behaved the way that she did. Antiquity was a lot more than just the venerable old men that got to write most of the histories, and thank goodness for books like this one, that restore these women to the prominence they so richly deserve.

Thank you to both NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for the ARC!

The story of Clodia Metellii, an often overlooked driving force behind many progressive voices in the final days of the Roman Republic. Covering her upbringing, education, and first marriage to Metellus, the first half of the book examines the political scene in Rome that influenced Clodia's youth and helped shape her and her brother's progressive tendencies. In the latter half of the book, following the death of Metellus, the book covers the evolving political landscape of Rome as the republic inches closer to collapse, with Clodia driving and supporting progressive voices clashing against the traditionally conservative Senate, most vocally represented by Cicero.

Boin does an excellent job providing context for this, especially when pulling from sources that often refused to recognize the agency of women in politics, and in general. The book is also filled with dozens of facts about every day Roman life that are often overlooked in denser history tomes.

For all of that, the ending does feel abrupt, following a lengthy speech from Cicero. Despite this, Boin shows how even powerful women in Rome, and across the Mediterranean, were effectively excluded from public life in so many ways.