Book Review of 'Nero: Matricide, Music, and Murder in Imperial Rome'
Nero: Matricide, Music, and Murder in Imperial Rome by Anthony Everitt and Roddy Ashworth explores the life of one of history’s most notorious emperors — but not in the oversimplified, villainous way he’s often portrayed. Instead, they dig into the messy, complex, and often self-destructive character behind the myths, showing how personal ambition, unresolved family conflicts, and unchecked power shaped his legacy.
The story begins with Nero’s complicated relationship with his mother, Agrippina the Younger. Think of Agrippina as a master strategist, playing Roman politics like a pro. She schemed her way to putting Nero on the throne, only to cling tightly to power after he was crowned. At first, Nero tolerated her control, but as he matured (and by matured, I mean grew paranoid and power-hungry), he wanted her out of the picture — permanently. His first attempt? A collapsing boat designed to drown her. It failed spectacularly, so he resorted to sending assassins. Her famous last words, “Stab my belly!” (a dark reference to having given birth to him), reveal the intense emotional weight behind their tragic dynamic.
But Nero wasn’t just power-obsessed — he was performance-obsessed. If anything, he seemed more interested in being a famous artist than an emperor. He saw himself as a misunderstood creative genius, giving public musical performances and competing in poetry contests (which, to be clear, he always won because, well, emperor). His obsession with personal fame was so consuming that his last words were reportedly “What an artist dies in me!” — a reflection of how much he valued his artistic legacy over his actual role as Rome’s leader.
Then came the Great Fire of Rome — the event that cemented Nero’s villain reputation for centuries. The myth says he “fiddled while Rome burned,” but the truth? The fiddle hadn’t even been invented yet. While he did help coordinate relief efforts, the fact that he later built his extravagant Domus Aurea palace on the ruins of the city made people question his motives. If your city burns down and you immediately build yourself a golden mansion on the ashes, people start asking questions.
As the years passed, Nero’s leadership spiraled further. His paranoia led him to systematically eliminate anyone he saw as a threat — stepbrothers, wives, senators, you name it. This cycle of power consolidation and mistrust isolated him further, creating a destructive feedback loop. Eventually, Rome had enough. Rebellion spread, the Senate declared him an enemy of the state, and Nero fled, ultimately taking his own life. Even in his final moments, his ego took center stage with his dramatic dying words: “What an artist dies in me.”