Judging a Book by its Cover: City of Libertines

Welcome to Judging a Book by its Cover, a semi-regular and unfair feature where my friend Joanne sends me a cover from a Classics-inspired paperback novel, and I snark on it.

This edition's cover is from City of Libertines by W.G. Hardy, a novel about the romance between Catullus and the infamous Clodia Metelli. According to Joanne, Hardy is one of the few authors out there to write a more sympathetic portrayal of Clodia, so props to him for that!

Nevertheless, it doesn't mean we can't find mockworthy things in the book's packaging. Without further ado, the front:


First things first: what's our favorite emo love poet wearing? Though we don't have any historical evidence that Catullus never wore armor, it looks about as out of place on him as oversized tie dye would look on Project Runway's Tim Gunn. Also, does the placement of that sword even make sense? How is it not cutting into his back? I'm tempted to think they're trying to make it into *ahem* symbolism, but it looks like it's been placed a bit too high above his hip for that.

And then there's Clodia. Look at her lying on that couch and tell me she isn't deliberately posing. She's even set the table with a fruit still life in advance, though at the same time, she also doesn't seem to have any qualms about digging into the grapes. (Speaking of which, why is it always grapes with Roman women? Were grapes the Official Food of Women like Sarah Haskins tells us yogurt is now? What gives?) Finally, while the white of Clodia's dress looks lovely with her complexion, it's a bit too fitted for Roman fashion, and I get the sense she doesn't know how many other lovely shades of fabric are available in her day in age. Let me take you shopping some time, Clodia; we'll have girl talk.

Now let's have a look at the back (you may have to click to see the text clearly):


Look at all those "history is sexy, really we promise!" buzzwords! Depraved. Emotional dalliances. Amorous wiles. It doesn't get any better than that. But my favorite phrase has to be one from the review-- "physical passion of a high voltage." I was going to say that the reference to electricity in matters of lovemaking is somewhat anachronistic, but then I remembered the myth of Dionysus's mother Semele, who saw Zeus in his true lightningy glory. Of course, we saw how well that worked out for her, didn't we?

Overall, not the silliest of covers, but still a bit lulzy. Stay tuned for more!