PHOTO: Adrian Goldsworthy, historian and novelist, at his writing desk surrounded by works exploring ancient Rome and the Napoleonic era.
Master Historian And Novelist On Craft, Conflict, And Creativity
Adrian Goldsworthy discusses balancing historical accuracy with narrative tension, drawing modern parallels, and blending his academic expertise with storytelling in both non-fiction and fiction works inspired by history.
Adrian Goldsworthy possesses a rare gift: the ability to illuminate the ancient world with clarity, precision, and a palpable sense of humanity. Whether chronicling the life of Caesar, delving into the dynamics between Philip and Alexander, or exploring the persistent struggle between Rome and Persia, his prose is informed by deep scholarship yet animated by gripping storytelling. Both his fiction and non-fiction offer readers insights that feel as immediate as they are timeless, bridging gaps between distant pasts and contemporary reflections.
From his meticulous depictions of Roman military campaigns to the visceral immediacy of fictional battlefields, Goldsworthy’s works resonate with an authenticity that stems from years of rigorous academic pursuit. His characters, both historical and imagined, are never reduced to mere archetypes; instead, they are presented as living, breathing figures shaped by their eras yet capable of transcending them. In Caesar: Life of a Colossus, for instance, he crafts not just a biography but an intricate tapestry of one of history’s most complex figures, allowing readers to glimpse the man behind the legend.
As a historian who transitioned seamlessly into fiction, Goldsworthy has enriched the literary world with narratives that balance historical fidelity and creative freedom. His novels, including True Soldier Gentlemen and Hill 112, reflect an author who deeply understands the nuances of human struggle and the weight of choices made in the crucible of history. Through these works, he invites readers not merely to observe but to enter the lives and worlds he painstakingly recreates, making history itself feel alive and profoundly personal.
In each of his books, Goldsworthy’s passion for understanding the past is matched by an abiding respect for the reader. Whether writing about Pax Romana or crafting compelling characters in imagined regiments, he threads accessibility and insight into every page, turning complex historical themes into narratives that linger long after the final chapter. With intellectual rigour and literary artistry, Adrian Goldsworthy continues to deepen our connection to history, reminding us of its enduring relevance and its power to shape our understanding of the present.
In The Wall, how did you balance historical accuracy with narrative tension in concluding the City of Victory trilogy?
The story of The Wall is about the building of Hadrian’s Wall, and one of the background threads to the City of Victory Trilogy – and its predecessor the Vindolanda Trilogy – is trying to explain why this was done. The historical record is threadbare, we have few details about events and no explanation for it. So, I can make the details of the Emperor Trajan and his cousin and successor Hadrian right, and also try to show how the Roman army worked at this time, but beyond that there is the freedom to tell a story that fits with the few facts we possess and fleshes them out. These novels are Westerns, just set in Roman times, but they’re about frontier life, the clashes between cultures. Flavius Ferox, our hero, is a centurion taking the role of the marshal, gunfighter or scout in the American West.
What inspired you to explore the prolonged Rome–Persia rivalry in The Eagle and the Lion, and what contemporary parallels do you draw?
I had written about Alexander and the east, and it made me think more about the Romans and their eastern neighbours. The Parthians and Persians were the only external power living alongside the Roman empire and possessing anything like its level of sophistication or power. In the rest of the world, it was a question of tribes and little states or kingdoms. Rome and Parthian/Persia would coexist for almost eight centuries and then Persia would fall to the Arabs and most of Rome’s eastern provinces be lost in just a decade or so. No one had written about this whole period in an accessible way, so I felt that it would help readers to understand the Romans better and also tell them something about one of the other great civilizations of the ancient world.
In Philip and Alexander, how did you approach portraying both father and son as distinct yet interconnected figures?
Biographies have a natural pattern. Someone is born, grows up, does stuff and eventually dies. Telling the story of a father and son is harder, because you want this to be one book and not two that simply happen to be in one volume. However, I felt that this was important because so much of what Alexander the Great achieved, and the way he achieved it, depended on what his father Philip II had done. The key thing was to write about Philip as far as possible as if we don’t know what his son was going to do.
How does your academic background in Roman military history influence your depiction of battles in your fiction works?
A lot. Obviously because I have spent so much of my life studying the Roman world and the Rome army, then it is important to me to make my fiction as accurate a possible. My doctoral thesis looked at how the army fought on campaign and in battle, in an academic sense trying to understand how things worked and what it was like. The novels take this a stage further – in a sense to describe and visualize for the reader what happened in a battle and how. The big difference is that in non fiction it is important to admit when we do not know something. In a novel you have to guess and fill in the gaps in our sources.
Caesar: Life of a Colossus remains highly regarded; what do you believe contributes to its enduring popularity?
Mainly because the truth makes such a good story, and also I tried to write about Caesar as if he was a leader or statesman from more recent centuries. Because this is the ancient world, for which only a fraction of the sources have survived, there is a lot that we cannot know, which means that you still ask the questions even if you cannot give an answer. At the same time, I wanted to cover Caesar’s whole life in equal detail. So it was important to say where he was and what he was doing at any one time, rather than leaping from one famous moment to another. I use the same approach in all my biographies.
What challenges did you face transitioning from writing non-fiction to crafting historical novels set in the Napoleonic era?
There was a lot to learn, and I hope that I am still learning. Obviously, in a novel you create the story and the characters, as well as writing dialogue. Details that are not so important in a history matter far more to bring it to life – what people wore, what they ate, how they spoke. The advantage of Regency/Napoleonic era is that the sources are good for this sort of thing in a way that they simply are not for the ancient world. Storytelling is an art. I reckon that writing the novels has improved the pacing and style of my non fiction – and vice versa – even though I am very careful to keep the two styles separate.
In Pax Romana, you discuss the concept of peace through conquest; how does this theme resonate in today’s geopolitical climate?
My aim is always first and foremost to understand the past. If you go looking for a lesson then the odds are that you will shape the evidence to make your point. The Romans boasted that they created peace and order, so it was an obvious thing to write about. Were the claims real or propaganda? Within that, there is a chance to think about what it meant for people when the Romans arrived, and examine how the empire worked. There is little point to history where you try to depict people as goodies or baddies. What matters is trying to understand them as human beings, however different they may sometimes seem to us in their attitudes.
What advice would you offer aspiring authors aiming to write compelling historical narratives?
Write. There is a fair bit of craft to writing, and you learn by doing, so write and keep on writing to get used to playing with words. Think about how best to help the reader to see why this story is worth telling – whether it’s fiction or non fiction. For a novel, the world has to feel real to you if it is going to be real to anyone else, and work out what you want to convey. I reckon my novel about D-Day and the Battle of Normandy, Hill 112, is the most accurate fiction I have written – partly because the sources are better. The aim was to help people imagine what it was like to be there. Try to convince yourself and then hope that readers will feel the same.
