Steven Pressfield has long been one of my literary heroes. His historical fiction novel, Gates of Fire, which centered around the epic battle of Thermopylae, absolutely captivated me and led me straight away to his celebrated book on self-discipline and creativity, The War of Art, a book I return to again and again and recommend often to other writers.
Not only is Pressfield a bona fide master of his craft, but he also has a huge heart for his fellow artists, to which his invaluable blog and inspiring catalogue of nonfiction work attest. He doesn’t endeavor to simply deliver thrilling, enthralling, stay-with-you stories, a tremendous feat in and of itself, but also seeks to help others become the best storytellers and creators possible.
It is Pressfield’s rare combination of talent, sincerity, and generosity that has made him a hero in my eyes, and so you can imagine my excitement when he reached out to me on Instagram with the invitation to read an advanced copy of his latest novel, A Man at Arms. So girlishly giddy was I that I nearly spilled my coffee and had to blink ten times before I could believe that the words I was reading were not a figment of my imagination! Of course I replied with what I hope was a halfway coherent indication of my acceptance and appreciation, and that it didn’t contain too many goofy emoticons…
My response must have been intelligible enough because here I am a few months later, sitting in my writing chair, my copy of A Man at Arms at my side, ready to spill my thoughts on a gripping tale I’ll not soon forget!
Okay, okay, enough fangirling… On with the review!
A Man at Arms is set in and around Jerusalem in 55 A.D., just twenty years after Christ’s crucifixion. The world is a bit like the one we find ourselves in now: full of turmoil, division, hatred, and a surfeit of fear and unrest. This dystopian state of the first century is owed in large part to the iron fist of the Roman Empire and its fierce intolerance of the rapidly spreading Jewish sect known as Christianity.
The story’s protagonist, Telamon, is a former legionary whom I envisioned as quite like Aragorn from the film version of The Lord of the Rings: quiet, mysterious, fearless, badass. Unlike Aragorn, however, Telamon answers to, and fights for, nobody. He holds to no life-defining creed or anchoring faith, but is rather described as dwelling “in this world of dust and strife, without illusion of self-delusion.” He fights “for no flag and no cause,” until, that is, he crosses paths with a young, mute girl whose connection to the Christians will either change his life forever, or gruesomely end it upon a rugged Roman cross.
Upon being captured for assaulting a Roman soldier who had tried to assault the girl, Telamon is promised freedom, and plenty of money, if he will track down a man who carries a dangerous letter for the underground church penned by the “fanatical” apostle Paul. Initially, this is just another job to Telamon, another mission; the individuals involved and the cause they represent are inconsequential. I don’t have to tell you that as the story proceeds, the individuals involved and the cause for which they are risking their lives begin to not only interest him, but to affect him in ways he never could have imagined.
A Man at Arms is rich with the same level of riveting action and heart-stopping fight sequences as Pressfield’s other works of historical fiction, such as Gates of Fire and Tides of War. It’s also overflowing with fascinating, expertly woven historical details that fully immerse the reader in ancient Judea, Greece, and the harsh, godforsaken Sinai desert through which our protagonists must traverse to avoid capture, torture, and worst of all, the destruction of their precious cargo: the Apostle’s revolutionary letter to the Corinthian church.
But beneath the nonstop twists and turns and nail-biting action of Telamon’s harrowing adventure runs a soft, smooth thematic current. I cannot speak for Pressfield’s intentions, but the theme I personally perceived was that love is the most powerful weapon of all. Indeed, the epigraph at the beginning of the novel reads thusly:
“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
“And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.” – 1 Corinthians 13:1-2
To those words, Telamon might add, “Though I have cut down countless enemies, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I am gifted in strategy, survival, and combat, and have not charity, I am nothing.”
I think we can agree that our current world could use a lot more love. Then again, after reading A Man at Arms, I am reminded that every age in history has suffered considerably each time love was suppressed, trampled brutally by force and the fear it foments. But, as the thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians also states, “Love never fails.” Even when it has been ground to dust, love bears the miraculous ability to revive itself and fly up out of the grave stronger, bolder, and more fervent than ever.
As Telamon can attest, love can break down walls surrounding the proudest, hardest, and most skeptical hearts. If (when!) you read the novel, I am certain you too will feel your own heart swell with a new appreciation for love and truth and the unthinkable lengths men and women throughout the ages have gone to not only to protect them, but also share them with whomever might receive.
“Omnia vincit amor” – Love conquers all things (from Eclogue X by Virgil)