The Last Days of Pompeii by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton

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Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron, 1803-1873 Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron, 1803-1873
English
Ever wonder what it was really like in those final hours before Mount Vesuvius buried Pompeii? This book is your ticket. Forget dry history—this is a wild ride through a city living on borrowed time. We follow Glaucus, a rich young Roman, as he falls for the beautiful Ione. But there's a problem: a powerful Egyptian priest named Arbaces wants her for himself, and he's not playing fair. As their love story unfolds, the ground starts to rumble. The real question isn't just 'will they get together?' It's 'will anyone get out alive?' It's part romance, part thriller, and all epic disaster story.
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'An additional reason for supping with him while the sesterces last. Next year, Diomed, we must find another Glaucus.' 'He is fond of the dice, too, I hear.' 'He is fond of every pleasure; and while he likes the pleasure of giving suppers, we are all fond of him.' 'Ha, ha, Clodius, that is well said! Have you ever seen my wine-cellars, by-the-by?' 'I think not, my good Diomed.' 'Well, you must sup with me some evening; I have tolerable muraenae in my reservoir, and I ask Pansa the aedile to meet you.' 'O, no state with me!--Persicos odi apparatus, I am easily contented. Well, the day wanes; I am for the baths--and you...' 'To the quaestor--business of state--afterwards to the temple of Isis. Vale!' 'An ostentatious, bustling, ill-bred fellow,' muttered Clodius to himself, as he sauntered slowly away. 'He thinks with his feasts and his wine-cellars to make us forget that he is the son of a freedman--and so we will, when we do him the honour of winning his money; these rich plebeians are a harvest for us spendthrift nobles.' Thus soliloquising, Clodius arrived in the Via Domitiana, which was crowded with passengers and chariots, and exhibited all that gay and animated exuberance of life and motion which we find at this day in the streets of Naples. The bells of the cars as they rapidly glided by each other jingled merrily on the ear, and Clodius with smiles or nods claimed familiar acquaintance with whatever equipage was most elegant or fantastic: in fact, no idler was better known in Pompeii. 'What, Clodius! and how have you slept on your good fortune?' cried, in a pleasant and musical voice, a young man, in a chariot of the most fastidious and graceful fashion. Upon its surface of bronze were elaborately wrought, in the still exquisite workmanship of Greece, reliefs of the Olympian games; the two horses that drew the car were of the rarest breed of Parthia; their slender limbs seemed to disdain the ground and court the air, and yet at the slightest touch of the charioteer, who stood behind the young owner of the equipage, they paused motionless, as if suddenly transformed into stone--lifeless, but lifelike, as one of the breathing wonders of Praxiteles. The owner himself was of that slender and beautiful symmetry from which the sculptors of Athens drew their models; his Grecian origin betrayed itself in his light but clustering locks, and the perfect harmony of his features. He wore no toga, which in the time of the emperors had indeed ceased to be the general distinction of the Romans, and was especially ridiculed by the pretenders to fashion; but his tunic glowed in the richest hues of the Tyrian dye, and the fibulae, or buckles, by which it was fastened, sparkled with emeralds: around his neck was a chain of gold, which in the middle of his breast twisted itself into the form of a serpent's head, from the mouth of which hung pendent a large signet ring of elaborate and most exquisite workmanship; the sleeves of the tunic were loose, and fringed at the hand with gold: and across the waist a girdle wrought in arabesque designs, and of the same material as the fringe, served in lieu of pockets for the receptacle of the handkerchief and the purse, the stilus and the tablets. 'My dear Glaucus!' said Clodius, 'I rejoice to see that your losses have so little affected your mien. Why, you seem as if you had been inspired by Apollo, and your face shines with happiness like a glory;...

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Picture this: Pompeii, 79 AD. It's a city of luxury baths, loud taverns, and chariots clattering down stone streets. Everyone's busy with their own dramas, completely unaware that the mountain looming over them is about to explode.

The Story

The book follows Glaucus, a handsome and carefree Athenian living in Pompeii. He's head over heels for Ione, a beautiful young woman new to the city. Their path to happiness is blocked by Arbaces, a creepy and manipulative Egyptian priest who also desires Ione and will use dark magic and lies to get his way. Meanwhile, a blind flower-seller named Nydia secretly loves Glaucus herself. As these personal battles rage—jealousy, betrayal, forbidden love—the earth gives ominous warnings. When Vesuvius finally erupts, all these human conflicts are suddenly dwarfed by the fight for survival against falling ash, rivers of fire, and absolute darkness.

Why You Should Read It

What grabs me isn't just the volcano (though that part is incredible). It's how Lytton makes this ancient city feel alive and messy. These characters gossip, scheme, and fall in love just like we do. You get so wrapped up in their problems that the eruption feels like a shocking, personal tragedy. The blind girl Nydia is a standout—her story is heartbreaking and brave. The book makes you think: if you knew your world was ending tomorrow, what would you fight for? Who would you try to save?

Final Verdict

Perfect for anyone who loves a big, dramatic story with a huge backdrop. If you enjoy historical fiction that focuses on people rather than just dates, or disaster movies where you care about the characters, you'll be hooked. Just be ready for some old-fashioned, descriptive writing—it's part of the charm. This is classic storytelling at its most suspenseful.



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