Philip II and Alexander the Great: Father and Son ... - Historia Antigua

“YOU SHOULD NEVER MEET YOUR HEROES . . . ” 191
operi cedat, dum praeclara libenter probandi necessaria narranti
conscientia non desit. (9.3 ext., Praef.)
. . . monuit cum eo aut quam rarissime aut quam iucundissime
loqueretur, quo scilicet apud regias aures uel silentio tutior uel
sermone esset acceptior. (7.2 ext. 11a)
Let Greek industry also, since it has been of so much assistance
to our own, receive a deserved reward in the Latin tongue.
Of course one does not derive benefi t by seeking examples from
unknowns, and one forbears to call great men to account for
their faults. Yet since fi delity to my project urges me to embrace
that which is most outstanding, let my feelings give way to the
work in hand, as long as the recounting of necessary examples
does not lead to the omission of generous approval for admirable
examples.
. . . he [Aristotle] advised him [Callisthenes] that when speaking
with [Alexander] it should be either as infrequently or as pleasantly
as possible. From which one understands that his refuge
should be silence, should his conversation not be acceptable to
the royal ears.
Valerius nudges up against the trope made famous by Horace when
he characterizes Greek industry (an interesting choice of terms) positively,
but makes it clear that for Greek words and deeds—and their
merit—to have real bite, they need to be articulated in Latin: the conquering
language of meaningful memorialization. 37 Alexander’s
lively Latin afterlife is thereby a gift from Rome to Alexander, without
which the cluster of vivid associations which continue to make
Alexander memorable might have been erased from the sweep of history.
The last two passages quoted above sum up Valerius’ exemplary
program excellently, and I conclude with his earnest attempt to tread
a delicate line between positive examples ( exempla) and dangerous
negative anecdotes. He quotes Aristotle advising Callisthenes—if
you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all—before he
sent him to accompany Alexander. As Callisthenes might well have
replied with hindsight, you should never meet your heroes.
Summing up, the image of Alexander the Great is one more element
in the drunken rampage from (mythic) history to the Craggy Island of
(trans-)cultural memory. Like Father Ted’s Henry Sellers, Alexander
“reminds” Valerius of Rome’s most traumatic historical moments—the
Punic and Civil Wars—just like in “you know, the fi lms.” 38