Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Review: "Persona Non Grata," Ruth Downie


By Paul Carrier

Gaius Petreius Ruso thought he had problems back when he was a doctor assigned to a Roman legion stationed in Britannia. But that was before he returned to Gaul to find that his brother Lucius and their stepmother, who have been managing the family farm, are on the verge of bankruptcy.

As the legal heir to his late father’s estate in Narbonensis (modern-day Languedoc and Provence), Ruso is determined to set things right. But it won’t be easy. Unscrupulous creditors are trying to swindle Ruso’s clan, and just when he thinks he’s worked out a deal with their agent, Severus, the man is poisoned and drops dead.

Severus, who is married to Ruso’s ex-wife Claudia, dies while holed up with Ruso in the latter’s study. So Ruso quickly emerges as the prime suspect in the killing because he had means (a doctor’s familiarity with poisons), opportunity (time alone with Severus) and motive (revenge for Severus’ attempt to destroy Ruso and his family).

Ruso didn't do it, of course, but to prove his innocence he must find the murderer.

As if all that isn’t bad enough, domestic problems abound. Justinus, the brother of Ruso’s sister-in-law, is missing and presumed drowned at sea. Ruso’s immature half-sisters, Marcia and Flora, are begging him to provide them with dowries. His stepmother hopes to marry him off to the wealthy widow next door. And Ruso’s British lover, Tilla, who accompanied him to Gaul, is not being well-received by his relatives, who view her as a barbarian.

This tangled jungle of financial chicanery, unexplained deaths and family infighting takes place in 119 A.D., during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian, one of the so-called five good emperors. But Persona Non Grata has a somewhat contemporary feel, as Ruth Downie reminds us that human nature has changed little over the last 2,000 years or so.

The third book in Downie’s Ruso series, Persona Non Grata is the first in which the protagonist travels outside Britannia. Downie’s fine sense of humor is on display once again as the sardonic Ruso tries to ignore the more idiotic affectations of his impoverished, social-climbing relatives, as well as the antics of their household staff.

When Ruso tries to question the family cook about what kind of beverage Severus drank before he died, for example, the defensive cook gesticulates wildly with a knife, ignoring Ruso’s requests that he put it down. That leaves Ruso wondering if the man “was genuinely deranged or just an out-of work actor.”

Later, Ruso spots a skinny kid “whose tunic was so big that he looked as though he had shrunk in the wash.” A seedy bar in a nearby town is so disreputable that “nobody bothered to sweep up the cockroaches after they squashed them.”

Tilla, meanwhile, must come to terms with being a confused stranger in a very strange land where Roman “games” claim human lives and the disciples of “Christos” are making inroads with a relatively new religion that Tilla finds appealing. Her blond hair, exotic looks and heavy woolen clothing set her apart as a novelty who alternately fascinates and frightens the Romans of Gaul.

“Can she talk?” Ruso’s nieces and nephews ask when Ruso introduces them to Tilla. “Can we touch her?” “Is she fierce?”

Yet in some ways, Tilla is more civilized than the civilizers. While the Romans see themselves as the world’s most advanced power, it is Tilla who is appalled when alleged criminals are publicly executed in an amphitheater by a bear that is goaded into attacking its chained victims. By contrast, the Romans in the audience cheer the bear while munching on snacks.

Surveying the Ruso family’s home in southern Gaul, with its mosaics and murals and “silly little polished tables with spindly legs,” the pragmatic, clear-headed Briton asks herself: “What could you do with things like that? You could not milk them or eat them. They would not keep you warm in winter.”


Tilla’s reaction to Gaul, and the provincial Romans’ attitudes toward her and her homeland, are as captivating as the search for clues to the fates of the ill-starred Severus and Justinus. In Tilla (full name: Darlughdacha of the Corionotatae among the Brigantes) Downie has created a memorable character who is at least as intriguing as Ruso himself.