Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 343 pp., $17.95
In August 1939, I crossed the border from France into Italy. At thirteen I was already Henry James's passionate pilgrim; and the principal object of my pilgrimage was those remnants of the Roman empire which I had come to know so well from that glorious film The Last Days of Pompeii, not to mention its Plautine counterpart, the sympathetic Eddie Cantor's Roman Scandals: a thousand compelling celluloid images complemented by the texts of Tales from Livy and Suetonius' mind-boggling gossip.
Review, 5964 words
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