Book Review: The Golden Mean
By Annabel Lyon, Alfred A. Knopf, Hardcover, 2010, 290 pages, $24.95
To some he was "The Stagirite." To Dante Alighieri he was "The Master of Those Who Know." To St. Thomas Aquinas, the greatest of all medieval Schoolmen, he was simply "The Philosopher." In our time, the name of Aristotle still evokes a sense of cerebral gravitas. With Socrates and Plato, he comprises that ancient and awesome triumvirate forever associated with learning, intellectual exploration and profound philosophical speculation. And though revered by many over the centuries, he would have his detractors like Francis Bacon, who argued that the pervasive influence of Aristotle's philosophy was an impediment to the growth of modern science. Galileo would spend a considerable part of his own career refuting Aristotle's notion of celestial spheres and their composition. No matter. Aristotle is forever an electrifying presence in the history of thought.
Almost nothing has been preserved regarding his actual personality. Yet in her splendid novel "The Golden Mean," Canadian writer Annabel Lyon has transformed the solemn archetype of Aristotle into a pensive man of flesh and blood. Possessed of a vibrant mind vivified by incessant curiosity, Aristotle is eager to comprehend and categorize the world around him. It is a sympathetic portrait in which the great philosopher is also depicted as one besieged by a serious bipolar disorder. He suffers periods of deep and inexplicable depression. Lyon's rendering of these episodes can be heartbreaking.
"I'm weeping. ... There's no name for this sickness, no diagnosis, no treatment mentioned in my father's medical books. You could stand next to me and never guess my symptoms. Metaphor: I am afflicted by colours--grey, hot red, maw-black, gold. I can't always see how to go on, how best to live with an affliction I can't explain and can't cure."
While much of this novel focuses on the relationship that develops between the philosopher and the rambunctious son of Philip of Macedonia, Alexander the Great, the tale meanders effortlessly through various phases of Aristotle's life. His father Nichomachus is a physician whose trade frequently requires his absence from the family. On awakening from a dream, the adult Aristotle rises and remembers: "I was a miserable child, lonely, and frightened when my father was called away at night or travelling, which was often. He was the only doctor for many of the little coastal villages, and as his reputation grew he was called ever farther away, to ever bigger towns." Eventually young Aristotle would accompany his formidable father on calls.
The budding thinker meets a dissipated man named Illaeus who "had lived in Athens, studied with a great man there named Plato, had been a star bright himself, briefly--and I learned nothing more than I had learned that first day: that he was a drunk with a tooth for young boys, who didn't like me or my father but badly needed our money for wine and sex." Illaeus comes to appreciate his brilliant charge. He gives Aristotle the ultimate compliment, that he is worthy of becoming a student of Plato: "'Maybe one day you'll go to him, star bright,' he said, and the idea seemed to take root in him as he spoke it, for he mentioned it again once or twice when he was more sober, said he would write to recommend me, said the man would remember him and would take him seriously." Aristotle's eventual arrival at Plato's Academy is charmingly limned.
His childhood friend Philip becomes a warrior king with multiple wives. Philip summons Aristotle to tutor one of his sons who is developmentally disabled. Despite the challenge, the philosopher makes progress. Aristotle then becomes the teacher of Alexander and the coterie of boys who surround him. Observing the cruel indifference Alexander displays to his older, impaired half-brother, the philosopher remarks:
"You're a cruel little shit, aren't you?" Unaccustomed to such a rebuke, the future king and conqueror is taken aback. Aristotle continues: "You don't frighten me, you make me sad. You're supposed to be brilliant. ... You know what I see? An utterly ordinary boy. I train birds, you pull the wings off flies. I haven't seen anything in you that tells me you are extraordinary in any way. Athletics, I wouldn't know or care about that. I'm talking about your mind, your personality. Just an ordinary boy with too many privileges. A violent, snotty little boy."
Over time, their rapport evolves and deepens. Alexander will come to view his teacher with reverential love as a second father.
Tumultuous events, wars and political intrigue surround Aristotle as he attempts to weave an understanding of nature's diversity and human society. He is never quite settled: "I'm Macedonian to the Athenians and Athenian to the Macedonians." There is a moving scene toward the end of this tale where his former student tries to cajole Aristotle to stay with him on his campaign eastward. The philosopher demurs. After the early death of Alexander the Great, Aristotle would feel unwelcome in Athens. To avoid a possible assassination, he would repair to the island of Chalcis and soon die. Aristotle said that he could not bear to allow Athens to sin a second time against philosophy. He was speaking of Socrates: That old sage of the streets had been scapegoated and sentenced to death by the Athenians.