Under Tiberius

June 8, 2015
Novelist, poet, and Sonny Liston biographer Tosches blows the doors off the
historical novel with an unflinchingly blasphemous, mirthfully vulgar, and
ultimately brilliant story of Jesus. In
the secret libraries of the Vatican, Nick Tosches (who is also a character in the book) is entrusted with an ancient codex written by Gaius Fulvius Falconius, speechwriter to Tiberius Caesar, documenting how he took a power-hungry, drunken miscreant of the provinces who consorts with prostitutes and manufactured him into a savior. Together, Gaius Fulvius and Jesus of Nazareth embark on a massive swindle that is also a remarkable friendship between thieves, punctuated by ribald misadventures in the brothels of Gabaon, dubious miracles in Galilee, and wonderful philosophical commentary that doubles as a bold critique of power—which is the only god that a skeptic like Gaius Fulvius is disposed to recognize.
As the scheming Roman tells us how he orchestrated Jesus’s many speeches and hoodwinked both his gullible flock and the Judean colonial powers, a curious
reverence somehow seeps into the satire. Not reverence of God, but a reverence for humans and their capacity to construct the terms of their own nature. A novel
in which Jesus Christ is a fraud and a chronic masturbator who dreams of sexual congress with his mother may not be to every taste, but Tosches is taking eloquent aim at the way history, religion, and political fantasy obscure the persistent realities of humanity. This novels succeeds where every neutered passion play–depiction of Jesus fails, simply by showing us a man.

June 1, 2015
Meet the real Jesus Christ: a slovenly reprobate who becomes a religious huckster with the help of a Roman Svengali. In Tosches' 2002 novel, In the Hand of Dante, a fictional version of the author discovered a handwritten manuscript of The Divine Comedy in the bowels of the Vatican. Lots of dusty shelves there, apparently. This time, Nick discovers a memoir by Gaius Fulvius Falconius, a speechwriter for Roman emperor Tiberius, describing not only meeting Jesus Christ, but guiding him toward Judean celebrity. Banished from Rome after getting on the emperor's bad side, Gaius meets a "dirty little half-shekel thief" whom he proceeds to mold into a faux messiah more golden-voiced than his competitors. Using Old Testament prophesies as a playbook, Jesus and Gaius do brisk business, ostensibly collecting money for a synagogue but spending their nights carousing. Miracles are carny routines: the dead man Jesus "resurrects" is only poisoned; the "lame" man he heals is a beggar encouraged to rise with the promise of more money. (People possessed by demons? Drunks.) Ill intentions be damned, apostles are attracted to this new faith, and rumors about the feeding of the 5 thousand bolster his fame. Tosches' cynicism about religion in general and the Christ story in particular is unmistakable, though there's surprisingly little angry-atheist bluster in the novel's prose; framing the novel as an ancient memoir gives the story a more deadpan affect. And he's clearly thought hard about how parable and gossip, plus a little luck, can make a faith. But Tosches gets bogged down in etymological digressions and convoluted squabbles among the Romans and rival priests. If Tosches feels no obligation to God's existence, fine; but obligations to good fiction demand that the path to the "real" crucifixion have a touch more intrigue. One of the grumpiest stories ever told about the greatest story ever told.

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June 15, 2015

While conducting research in the Vatican, the fictional Nick Tosches comes across a first-century codex of a memoir written by a speechwriter to Emperor Tiberius that presents a contemporary account of the life of Jesus. Gaius Fulvius Falconius has fallen out of favor with Tiberius and been exiled to the Middle East at a time when longing for a savior is at a fever pitch. He encounters a petty thief by the name of Jesus, and having seen the wealth that can come from religion, Gaius decides to turn this shabby thief into a god in much the same way he did the emperor. Together they follow the path of the biblical Jesus, gaining followers, all the while building their fortune with the hope of eventually repairing to a life of luxury in Rome. But this pretend savior outgrows his creator, enhancing Gaius' words with his own ideas--and running afoul of the Jewish religious authorities during a fateful trip to Jerusalem. VERDICT While Tosches's novel is well written and quite engrossing, the author's deep cynicism regarding religion--that it's a scam designed to remove money from the pockets of the faithful--and heterodox view of Christ are guaranteed to be controversial.--Lawrence Rungren, Andover, MA

Copyright 2015 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from August 1, 2015
The story starts conventionally enough. A librarian at the Vatican finds an ancient manuscript and hands it off to an author doing research there, afraid of the explosive material it contains. The rest of Tosches' novel takes the form of a translation of an eyewitness account of Jesus' ministry, a brilliant, dark journey that takes almost every piece of the well-worn gospel stories and turns them on their heads. The memoir's writer, however, is more than just a follower of Jesus. The Roman Gaius is the former speechwriter of Emperor Tiberius, now exiled to the backwater of Judea. Upon his arrival, his attention is caught by a face in the crowd, and Gaius feels that his destiny is intertwined with this man. In an instant, the thought comes to him: as he crafted Tiberius' image, so he can make this filthy, forgotten man a god. And so Jesus' ministry begins, with one cynical goal, shared by Gaius and Jesus: to get as much money as possible from the rubes who believe in the Word and the Way and then make their way back to Rome, so wealthy they can have their assholes groomed. This example of the novel's crudeness makes clear that perhaps not since The Last Temptation of Christ (1960) has there been a book with so much potential for offending believers. But there's far more to it than shock value. This is also a meditation on the extraordinary strength of both lies and belief, and it shows how truth can sometimes grow in the shadows between them. Disturbing, audacious, and powerful.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2015, American Library Association.)