Salammbo by Gustave Flaubert

(10 User reviews)   4501
By Nicholas Ortiz Posted on Dec 25, 2025
In Category - Legal Drama
Flaubert, Gustave, 1821-1880 Flaubert, Gustave, 1821-1880
English
Okay, hear me out. If you think Flaubert is all about a French woman and her love life, get ready. 'Salammbô' is his wild, brutal, and absolutely gorgeous detour into ancient Carthage. It's about a priestess, a stolen sacred veil, and the mercenary army that's about to tear the city apart to get their back pay. The vibe is less drawing room drama, more epic poem meets historical nightmare. It's dense, strange, and sometimes shocking, but if you want to be completely transported to a world of war elephants, moonlit temples, and desperate, bloody rebellion, this is your ticket. Just don't expect a happy ending.
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away, and they were numerous, they ate and drank with perfect freedom. The captains, who wore bronze cothurni, had placed themselves in the central path, beneath a gold-fringed purple awning, which reached from the wall of the stables to the first terrace of the palace; the common soldiers were scattered beneath the trees, where numerous flat-roofed buildings might be seen, wine-presses, cellars, storehouses, bakeries, and arsenals, with a court for elephants, dens for wild beasts, and a prison for slaves. Fig-trees surrounded the kitchens; a wood of sycamores stretched away to meet masses of verdure, where the pomegranate shone amid the white tufts of the cotton-plant; vines, grape-laden, grew up into the branches of the pines; a field of roses bloomed beneath the plane-trees; here and there lilies rocked upon the turf; the paths were strewn with black sand mingled with powdered coral, and in the centre the avenue of cypress formed, as it were, a double colonnade of green obelisks from one extremity to the other. Far in the background stood the palace, built of yellow mottled Numidian marble, broad courses supporting its four terraced stories. With its large, straight, ebony staircase, bearing the prow of a vanquished galley at the corners of every step, its red doors quartered with black crosses, its brass gratings protecting it from scorpions below, and its trellises of gilded rods closing the apertures above, it seemed to the soldiers in its haughty opulence as solemn and impenetrable as the face of Hamilcar. The Council had appointed his house for the holding of this feast; the convalescents lying in the temple of Eschmoun had set out at daybreak and dragged themselves thither on their crutches. Every minute others were arriving. They poured in ceaselessly by every path like torrents rushing into a lake; through the trees the slaves of the kitchens might be seen running scared and half-naked; the gazelles fled bleating on the lawns; the sun was setting, and the perfume of citron trees rendered the exhalation from the perspiring crowd heavier still. Men of all nations were there, Ligurians, Lusitanians, Balearians, Negroes, and fugitives from Rome. Beside the heavy Dorian dialect were audible the resonant Celtic syllables rattling like chariots of war, while Ionian terminations conflicted with consonants of the desert as harsh as the jackal’s cry. The Greek might be recognised by his slender figure, the Egyptian by his elevated shoulders, the Cantabrian by his broad calves. There were Carians proudly nodding their helmet plumes, Cappadocian archers displaying large flowers painted on their bodies with the juice of herbs, and a few Lydians in women’s robes, dining in slippers and earrings. Others were ostentatiously daubed with vermilion, and resembled coral statues. They stretched themselves on the cushions, they ate squatting round large trays, or lying face downwards they drew out the pieces of meat and sated themselves, leaning on their elbows in the peaceful posture of lions tearing their prey. The last comers stood leaning against the trees watching the low tables half hidden beneath the scarlet coverings, and awaiting their turn. Hamilcar’s kitchens being insufficient, the Council had sent them slaves, ware, and beds, and in the middle of the garden, as on a battle-field when they burn the dead, large bright fires might be seen, at which oxen were roasting. Anise-sprinkled loaves alternated with great cheeses heavier than discuses, crateras filled with wine, and cantharuses filled with water, together with baskets of gold filigree-work containing flowers. Every eye was dilated with the joy of being able at last to gorge at pleasure, and songs were beginning here and there....

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After the success of Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert did something unexpected. He spent years researching and wrote a novel set in 3rd-century BC Carthage. 'Salammbô' is a historical epic that feels like a fever dream.

The Story

Carthage has just finished the First Punic War and can't pay its army of mercenaries. These battle-hardened soldiers from all over the Mediterranean get restless, then furious. Led by the Libyan Matho, they revolt and lay siege to the city. Matho becomes obsessed with Salammbô, the daughter of the Carthaginian general Hamilcar and a priestess of the moon goddess. In a daring raid, he steals the sacred veil of the goddess, Tanit, believing its power will bring him victory and Salammbô. The fate of Carthage hangs on this relic and the impossible connection between the besieger and the besieged.

Why You Should Read It

Forget dry history. Flaubert makes you feel the grit, smell the incense, and flinch at the violence. It's a sensory overload. Salammbô isn't a typical heroine; she's a mysterious, almost alien figure caught between divine duty and terrifying human desire. The book doesn't ask you to like the characters, but to be mesmerized by their extremes. It's about fanaticism, the horrors of war, and the strange allure of the exotic and forbidden.

Final Verdict

This is not a breezy read. It's for the patient reader who loves rich, lavish prose and doesn't mind a plot that simmers. Perfect for historical fiction fans tired of the same old settings, or for anyone who wants to see a literary master completely change gears. If you can handle the intensity, 'Salammbô' is a unforgettable, haunting trip.



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Christopher Jones
1 month ago

Without a doubt, it provides a comprehensive overview perfect for everyone. A true masterpiece.

Andrew Sanchez
5 months ago

I didn't expect much, but the narrative structure is incredibly compelling. I will read more from this author.

Jessica Scott
5 months ago

Recommended.

Michael Jackson
1 year ago

Wow.

Linda Gonzalez
11 months ago

Compatible with my e-reader, thanks.

4.5
4.5 out of 5 (10 User reviews )

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