In the early part of Anabel Lyon’s new novel “The Golden Mean,” Aristotle proclaims, “In the ideal state, the education of children will be the highest business of the government.”
That the book takes as its narrative arc the relationship between the famous teacher and his most notable student, Alexander the Great, offers a creative look into their well-known relationship, if not for a careful examination of his maxim.
Approaching middle age, Aristotle is summoned to Pella by his boyhood friend Philip, King of Macedonia. Along with his young and less than worldly wife Pythias, the philosopher embarks on a course that has long been considered a crossroad of history; the teenage Alexander and the aging thinker shadow box through their lessons, sometimes working together, other times at odds.
The novel is much more, however, than the simple amalgam of teacher and student. Aristotle’s heritage shades the story. He longs to return to Athens, to the Academy, where he can put aside the worry of daily life, the quotidian complications of maintaining his household, navigating the pitfalls of marriage, his young wife’s pregnancy, his king’s expectations, as well as his own desires.
This simplicity is not to be, however, as Philip leaves to expand his empire, expecting Aristotle to remain in Pella to provide some ethical stability and philosophical inspiration to his son and his mates. This maturing cadre of aristocrats challenges the old thinker.
For his part, Alexander suffers blackouts while in battle, committing atrocities on the battlefield he is later unable to recall. His behavior, recalled by others, clearly abhorrent, is a counterpointed by Aristotle’s own ignoble foray into battle. He serves with the medics, where he continues to develop his conclusions. He recognizes, “There is, too, the matter of purpose; can one say the soul is the purpose of the body? I feel a wooliness there, a gap in the teeth of my logic.”
Alexander and Aristotle find in each other their own aspirations, but also their own failures. Aristotle wishes for more worldly experiences, but knows these are fleeting, and because of his lineage traced from Socrates, he knows is constantly in pursuit of restraint.
This equilibrium is the golden mean, the balance between access and excess; the tipping point between mania and moderation. For his part, Alexander, raised by an ambitious father and a doting mother, wants for a more cerebral existence, but recognizes his inability to hold temptation at bay. Side by side, the two demonstrate both the height of human possibility, as well as the depth of human suffering.
“The Golden Mean” is Lyon’s first novel. Her writing blends an earthy diction with a
No comments:
Post a Comment