The end of the world, and what a waste. Lucan's Civil War recounts what is little short of Armageddon for the Roman Republic. After giving the courtesy nod to his contemporary regime, as though this were all somehow worth it, the poet launches into his epic recounting in which all manners of death are enumerated in great detail. We are led to believe that there can be neither winners nor conquerors in civil war - only the dead, the guilty, and the scarred. Assuming that he intended a similar conclusion, we can assert that no deeds, be they good or bad, go unpunished. Events and actions are largely driven forward by the contingency of the past, and when you enter a terrible situation, only terrible outcomes are possible. Even seemingly heroic acts end in death - by suicide or grisly dismemberment. Indeed, the measure of one's death seems to be the only possible virtuous act remaining. The message is in the very act of the telling: there can be no moral lessons in civil war.
In certain ways Civil War feels like a very modern story/history. If there is a protagonist surely it is Julius Caesar, but he also appears as the arch-villain, and the author of so much mayhem. Rather than focus on the exploits of Caesar, the dignity of Pompey, or the rectitude of Cato, Lucan allows each his turn to step forward, and to say and enact his vision for the world. All three move in and out of the spotlight as events dictate; each sharing in the destiny of the others, but none solely responsible for creating the future. Less are they subject to some impersonal forces and more do we recognize that men's actions shape the doom of their time. Rather than Fortune spurring Caesar on, it is the General's nature and his actions which have entreated Fortune to follow him. Lucan seems to anticipate the lines which Shakespeare who would put in none other than Julius Caesar's mouth: the fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves. Lucan's message resounds through the ages, and his Civil War remains to remind us, among other things, of the depths to which men can sink, and, in so doing, drag their fellows along with them.