This is yet another book written in celebration of the bimillennium of Augustus' death in 2014. At the outset this study presents itself as a part of a positive and encouraging development, which should be applauded: it is written jointly by a historian, a philologist and an archaeologist (Z. on history, v.d.H. on archaeology and S. on literature). The book has six main sections, each with three subsections on historical, archaeological and philological issues. Unfortunately, the debates in each subsection are almost entirely isolated, save the chronological setting, with only limited interaction between them. As a result the book has a fragmented feel to it. In the foreword the authors offer the assessment that the critical view on Augustus taken by R. Syme (The Roman Revolution [1939]) in reaction to the positive view of Mussolini amongst others belongs to the past (the bimillennium celebration of the birth of Augustus in 1937), as scholars today take an altogether more balanced view. This promised balance, to this reviewer, is unfortunately never reached in this book. On the contrary, the approach seems to be that a negative methodology equals objectivity.

Chapter 1 focuses on the period between 63 and 44 b.c.e. It sets out in the traditional manner of revealing Augustus and his deceptive ways. This right-or-wrong approach to history, although valid, cannot it would seem offer much new insight. The chapter offers due credit to C. Meier and the ‘crises without alternative’ (p. 30), whereas the likes of E. Gruen and P. Brunt are altogether ignored. Chapter 2 brings focus on the civil war period of 44 to 27 b.c.e., including the settlement of 27, but unfortunately largely ignores that the transfer of power was a process that took place over his sixth and seventh consulship in 28–27 (RG 34.1; aureus from 28, rev.: Leges et Ivra P.R. Restitvit; contra Dio Cass. 53.2.6–22.5, emphasising an act in January 27). The war against Sextus Pompeius is rightly shown to have been portrayed as against pirates (and slaves) (p. 67), but at the same time the authors accept that Younger Caesar claimed to have ended the civil war (p. 68). Yet, there is no comment on this apparent problem, no doubt the result of the triumviral assignment (ending the civil war) and the need for triumphal honours (the enemy = pirates and slaves). A similar line is taken regarding Actium (pp. 69–77), a campaign declared against Cleopatra, but at the same time a civil war against Antonius, started by Antonius, according to Augustus, when he came to the rescue of Cleopatra (and thus mentioned as a civil war in RG 34.1). The authors do accept that peace was important to the Augustan regime (esp. p. 74), but ignore that peace is the result of victory (RG 13: parta victoriis pax). The archaeology and the poetry of the reign are only partly linked to this historical and contextual discussion, but because there is so little interaction between the subsections this material appears almost as an afterthought. And we may ask why the ancient evidence is hardly ever quoted. Moreover, even when there seems to be a good reason to describe the connection between the poets and the regime as a dialogue, nothing suggests that P. White's famous book was consulted (P. White, Promised Verse. Poets in the Society of Augustan Rome [1993]). Even more surprising is the absence from the bibliography of J. Osgood's standard work on the great impact of the civil war in Rome (J. Osgood, Caesar's Legacy: Civil War and the Emergence of the Roman Empire [2006]). Chapter 3 then reasserts the old theory of the alleged paradox of the principate: the restored Republic versus the clearly monarchical position of Augustus (p. 121). That the so-called restoration of the Republic, or even the res publica restituta, might be a red herring is ignored. The alternative versions are never mentioned (the period of 27 to 23 is examined in brief on pages 121–6). J. Rich, suggesting that the triumviral assignment became the model for Augustus' retaining of the powers needed to carry out the assignments presented to him by the Senate and the people, is also neither mentioned nor used (J.W. Rich, ‘Deception, Lies and Economy with the Truth: Augustus and the Establishment of the Principate’, in A.J. Turner et al. [edd.], Private and Public Lies. The Discourse of Despotism and Deceit in the Graeco–Roman World [2010], pp. 167–91; cf. C.H. Lange, Res Publica Constituta: Actium, Apollo and the Accomplishment of the Triumviral Assignment [2009]). Fixed-term tasks became the standard way for Augustus to justify monarchy.

Chapter 4 turns to the period 17 to 2 b.c.e. The chapter appears determined to prove that Augustus' policy was to extinguish any memory of civil wars. However, Augustus himself did not ignore them, but in fact claims to have extinguished civil war altogether (RG 34.1). Can we blame the man for focusing on the positive ending of the civil war? Even if we might disagree with Augustus' take on the matter, we need to try to understand why, while being critical. The chapter wrongly accepts that the so-called Horologium was indeed a Sonnenuhr (p. 180), totally ignoring the debate in JRA (24 [2011], 47–98). The Ara Pacis is mentioned and dismissed as a monument to the Augustan peace, in as much as there was never peace in all of the Empire (p. 197), but not only is the assignment ignored (securing the borders and provinces of the Empire), the three closings of the Temple of Janus (RG 13) if anything suggests that Augustus would disagree with this modern assumption about the normality of peace. Chapter 5 addresses the final years of Augustus, from 2 b.c.e. to 14 c.e. The historical section fittingly ends with the Res Gestae, Augustus' view on his own lifetime of work for the res publica, but no real insight is gained and the inscription is not used to understand the reign of Augustus, neither retrospectively nor ideologically. The section on philology, somewhat strangely, only considers Ovid (pp. 247–67, some three times the space given to the historical context of 27–23 b.c.e.). The final chapter in conclusion considers the deified Augustus. One wonders why the title of the book is Divus Augustus. There is a section on the views on Augustus in the ancient world, as in the Totengericht of Tacitus in the Annales. There is no other summation and the views of scholars, mentioned prominently in the foreword, are ignored.

This book falls short of its own goal. Ever since K.-J. Hölkeskamp complained that M. Beard failed to give due recognition to the work of T. Itgenshorst on the Roman triumph (the only entry of recent scholarship on the Roman triumph is in fact Itgenshorst [p. 299]) it has also become acceptable to complain about the German tradition and its lack of acknowledgement of foreign approaches and scholarship (K.-J. Hölkeskamp, ‘Review of M. Beard, The Roman Triumph, Cambridge (Mass.) 2007’, Gnomon 82 [2010], 130–6; see the debate on the matter in BICS 2011 between M. Crawford and Hölkeskamp). This book's bibliography is at times rather outdated and too often ignores much important work in other languages (curiously, the three bibliographies are composed differently). And even taking into account that a range of scholarship in German, French, Italian and English is mentioned in the bibliography, for further reading no doubt, the debates and information from these volumes of scholarship are often not apparent in the actual text of this book. The intensive scholarship of the last 20 years on Augustus at times seems to have eluded the authors.