Aristotle is travelling back to Pella, the capital of Macedon, where he spent most of his childhood. He intends to pay his respects to King Philip, a childhood friend, then move on to Athens where he will open up a school. (He’ll only head for Athens some 250 pages later.)
Upon arriving in Pella, Aristotle meets the young Alexander (a.k.a. “the Great”) and is convinced to stay on as his tutor even thought Aristotle’s wife, Pythias, doesn’t like the culture-less, misogynistic capital. As Aristotle tutors the future hegemon, he himself learns quite a bit about love, friendship, humanity and motherland.
The Golden Mean, Annabel Lyon’s first novel, winner of the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize and a finalist for the Scotiabank Giller Prize, presents Aristotle as a truly flawed, realistic human being. Maybe it’s because of those marble busts — eyeless, emotionless — but I always thought that philosophers, particularly classical Greek philosophers, were aloof. But Lyon creates a character who cares, sometimes too much for his own good.
Slightly bipolar, Aristotle prefers locking himself up in his library, but he never draws back from helping the various characters in the novel when they need him. He never retreats from learning of any kind, even when Alexander invites him to work alongside the medics during the battle of Chaeronea, to teach him what “real life” was all about.
Though a historical novel, particularly one about a classical thinker, could have easily become didactic and overly descriptive, Lyon does find the golden mean — that is, the desirable middle between two extremes. Readers are immersed in ancient Macedonia without an excess of explanation. The few times Aristotle does wax philosophical, other characters interrupt him. In fact, Lyon perfectly illustrates Aristotle’s ideology through his way of being. Alexander even tells him: “All our years together, you’ve made your theories out of the accidents of your own life. You’ve built a whole philosophy around the virtue of being you.”
A strong first novel, The Golden Mean leaves readers wanting more, especially more of Aristotle’s relationship with Plato and of his time at Plato’s school in Athens. Offering a flawless balance of history and humanity, the novel — whose words flow effortlessly — is a wonderful read. Aristotle is memorable, and Lyon’s depiction of the immortal philosopher is more three-dimensional than any marble bust.
