Mary Beard’s SPQR doesn’t so much tell the story of Rome as crack it open and let the noise pour out. This isn’t a dusty timeline of emperors and wars—it’s a sprawling, chatty, and gloriously alive portrait of a civilisation that still pulses beneath modern politics, language, and law. Beard writes like a scholar who’s thrown off her gown, rolled up her sleeves, and decided to talk to you over coffee instead of from a podium.

Her Rome isn’t the marble playground of Caesar and Cicero alone. Pompey, that swaggering rival general with his awkward end, gets his share of limelight, as do nameless citizens, freed slaves, and women whose voices echo faintly through the centuries. Beard’s genius lies in how she stitches the ordinary into the extraordinary, making the ancient world shimmer with humanity. Whether she’s unpicking the myth of Romulus or untangling the politics of the Republic, she builds a world both alien and familiar—one where power, ambition, and belief feel startlingly modern.

That said, SPQR isn’t always easy to navigate. Beard’s habit of jumping between centuries can leave even committed readers spinning, and the marathon-length chapters demand stamina. For all its accessibility, this is still a hefty read best approached with at least a map of Roman history tucked in your mind.

But persevere and you’ll be rewarded with one of the most engaging introductions to Rome ever written—rich, witty, and brilliantly alive. Beard doesn’t just explain history; she resurrects it.