I bought Alexander by Klaus Mann about ten years ago, & until recently it had been sat on our many various book shelves or been stashed away in boxes following my first, aborted attempt to read it all that time ago when it was initially purchased. I can't remember exactly why I had previously given up on it after about 40 pages, but it's been a fascinating work to return to & finish, & although it won't rank among my favourite reads, it certainly contains some extraordinary scenes within its 207 pages.
Born in 1906, Klaus Mann was the son of the world renowned author Thomas Mann, & it appears that tragedy followed him around for much of his life until his death in 1939 at the age of 42 from a drug overdose. His father was unimpressed with Klaus both as a person & a writer & he & his wife didn't even change their plans so that they could attend his funeral. But he must have been quite an individual, for his biography...
"tells the heartbreaking story of a profoundly courageous intellectual who stood up for his beliefs in dark times and paid a high personal price for his politics. His life was “the story of a German who wanted to be a European, & a European who wanted to be a citizen of the world”, someone who “spent the best time of his life in a social and spiritual vacuum, striving for a true community but never finding it, disconnected, restless, wandering, haunted by those solemn abstractions in which nobody else believes – civilisation, progress, liberty”.
-Frederick Spotts, Cursed Legacy: The Tragic
Life
of Klaus Mann.
High praise indeed.
Alexander is besotted with his friend Clitus, & attempts to make a pass at him one evening but he is rebuked in a cold, condescending manner. In Mann's story, this incident, as well as underlying issues regarding his father, is the key event which leads to Alexander's pathological megalomania & his ensuing cruelty, ambition & paranoia. Following this rejection, it is noted that, "Alexander changed quickly. It was as though he drew strength from this most painful defeat. He became more self-confident, more beautiful, but also harder & less elastic." (Mann, p.13) Alexander's other closest friend, Hephaestion, watches all this unfold from afar, & he worships Alexander & remains his closest friend.
Alexander's mother, Olympias, is a character of mythical proportions. Her husband, King Philip, is a philanderer & has many affairs outside of their marriage, & he even marries another woman (his niece!) called Cleopatra (not THAT Cleopatra!), who then has a bastard son called Arrhidaeus. Philip is described as being far more loving with him than he is with Alexander, & this is another explanation for Alexander's strange, vengeful behaviour. But despite this, Olympias herself is never beaten down by her husband Philip, & rumour has it among the Athenians that she regularly conjures up spirits during the night. It is said that "Egyptian priests & Babylonian magicians had initiated her into the most dubious secret cults, & that she definitely knew more about Orpheus & Dionysus than was proper!" (p. 5) Intimate knowledge of Orpheus & Dionysus! Sounds like a woman afer my own own heart! Indeed, the gossip about her knows no bounds. It is revealed that she keeps snakes, is hot-tempered, & is also impassioned but is often icy cold. In another Freudian hint, it is revealed that she too, just like Norma in Bates Motel, loves her son "with indecent affection" (p. 25) whilst remaining completely indifferent towards her latest born daughter. The rumours reach levels of unprecedented scandal concerning Alexander, who it is said was "probably not conceived in a natural way & certainly not by her husband." Make of that what you will with your own imaginations but as can be seen, the scene is set for a highly unusual, symbolic story.
When King Philip is murdered, Alexander then becomes the King of Greece (known then as Macedonia) & so begins his insatiable quest. Although he initially enjoys being the sovereign, it is his mother Olympias who casts the seed of ambition in his mind which is to wreak such havoc. "It is your mission," she tells him, before also informing him that Philip had not been his father anyway. Alexander, furious, storms away from his mother's palace.
We then follow Alexander as he leads his army to triumph after triumph. His soldiers worship him & he is able to remain one of them for a time. But gradually, things begin to change. After many brutal battles, they arrive at the famous ancient city of Babylon...
Charles le Brun, Entry of Alexander into Babylon (1665)
Here, Mann describes that famed, immortal city & its delights, described with such wrath in the New Testament, in great detail:
After months of hardship & tramping through barren landscapes & fighting enemies, Alexander's soldiers also gratefully experience the wonders that the famous city of Babylon has to offer:
But Babylon is also the high point of Alexander's reign as King. He very quickly becomes obsessed with the learned scholars of the city, demanding to know from them where he can find the secret of life, information on the various gods & fortune tellers, but they are unwilling to give him the information he seeks. "The nature of the gods is obscure," he is warned & they refuse to give him the answers he demands.
On leaving Babylon, his behaviour becomes more erratic & he begins to lose the unwavering, loyal support of his army. Demanding more & more from them as he attempts to conquer ever more remote corners of the world, even his friends begin to doubt him. Alexander, becoming increasingly aware of this, finds his paranoia escalating, & it reaches a sorry climax when he & his former friend, Clitus, face up to each other in a terrible battle of wills. Clitus is an expert storyteller, & regales those around him with tales about the gods & of the fickle nature of fortune. After an evening spent drinking heavily, Alexander demands that Clitus tells a happy story. Clitus delivers a scathing allegory about Alexander & their friendship, spelling out the dangers that Alexander faces if he continues on the same path. When Alexander demands that Clitus tell another story that describes him in far more glowing, glorious terms, Clitus stands before Alexander & declares, "Whenever I have thought about you, I have felt only pity. Didn't you once lay at my feet..." But before Clitus has finished his sentence, Alexander has run him through with his sword & Clitus drops down dead.
Following this brutal act, Alexander spends three days alone mourning for his friend, hoping to be relieved from his pain by insanity & finally allows his only other friend, Hephaestion, to see him. He begs Hephaestion to kill him but Hephaestion refuses. At this point he collapses into a deep sleep & begins to make a recovery.
Alexander is soon on the march again, & the next tribe he attempts to conquer are the Amazons. They put up an incredible fight, much to the chagrin of Alexander's soldiers, until finally the Amazons are defeated. Alexander then takes the Amazonian Queen, Roxanne, as his wife, but he rejects her on their wedding night. After this, he attempts to seduce her in the following days but she remains unmoved & is increasingly haughty & dismissive. Mann concludes that, "As always, after his most intimate defeats, he seemed to grow more extrovert, more domineering & inexorable than ever. He tyrannised his entourage, imposed harder punishments than before, & used ingenious oriental tortures." (p. 131)
Following this, Alexander becomes even more impatient for conquest. He orders his men to follow him even further to the East, for he is seeking the End of the World & intends to rule it himself. They themselves are demoralised & exhausted, but out of fear they follow him. He leads them to a terrible desert where many die of thirst, hunger & exhaustion & he himself is close to death. However, just as it appears that they will all perish, they come across a small town & are saved. In this town Alexander meets Three Old Men, who, seeking Brahman (the ultimate reality underlying all phenomena), have decided to only wear coarse clothing & have shunned the world in exchange for meditation, fasting & prayer. He showers them with questions about life & he enquires how it is possible to become calm & how he himself can find the Brahman:
But it is too late for Alexander to take their path. Their voices, instead of having "seductive power" as previously, "were now only waning & weak." He suddenly rushed from them, breaking the branches of bushes as he tore past them & "treading on flowers & small animals." And Mann notes how with painfully glowing eyes, the Three Old Men "watched him as he went off through the night, & saw how he offended the animal world & distanced himself from the way of knowledge & redemption." (p. 152) There is a very stark contrast here with Alexander as he had been as a youth, when he had loved animals dearly.
Following this encounter with the Three Old Men, Alexander is then shown another way to approach life in one of my favourite chapters in the book, & this alternative is all the more striking as it comes immediately after his encounter with the ascetic Three Old Men. For instead of asceticism, Alexander is shown bliss & forgetfulness through aestheticism & the senses, & the sense of playing with identity. For after his flight from the Three Wise Men, Alexander & his followers reach the palaces of the Indian Queen, Kandake. She & her people are unwarlike & greet them with joyous greetings & garlands, but her son, Kandaulus, mistakes Alexander for his right hand man & lieutenant, Hapheastion. Finding humour in this situation, Alexander goes along with the mistake & with a mischievous smile, pretends to be Hapheastion. He tells Kandaulus many things about Alexander (himself) & is then introduced to the Queen as Haphaestion, & in so doing he has to maintain the pretence about his identity. Although it begins as a game, Alexander actually finds the situation extremely informative & liberating. Mann writes, "Alexander had everyone call him Haphaestion, & he ended up believing in this transformation, which he found strangely flattering & which confused him in a pleasant way. "It is so easy then to lose yourself," he thought in a dreamy daze. "How carefree I feel... What a charming game," he thought as he told others about himself. Without any pangs of conscience, he enjoyed the impermissible, frivolous aspect of this situation." (p. 155-156)
This playing with identity is only the first step to the relinquishing of the ego that the Three Old Men had informed him was necessary to find peace in the previous scenes. As Alexander is enjoying his role as somebody else, he is then introduced to Queen Kandake.
At first he is reluctant. But their conversation mirrors in some ways what the Three Old Men had told him earlier...
As you can see, we are very much in Twin Peaks territory here, & this scene could easily be transferred into one where Audrey is trying to lure Cooper into bed (Ah, darlings! We should be so lucky!)
Shortly afterwards, Kandake, instructing him further, asks him to say the syllable "Om." He does this willingly as he wants to approach as closely as possible the great intoxication of knowledge:
Their blissful scene is interrupted by an intruder at this point but I find it a fascinating joining of chapters, with each showing polar opposite ways of attempting to find happiness, peace & truth. The Three Old Men have their particular way of attempting to reach Brahman (the ultimate reality underlying all phenomena) which involves meditation, fasting & the almost complete renunciation of the pleasures of the flesh & any sense of self or ego. But through the idea of masks, role play, & enhanced sensuality & mind altering substances, Mann suggests another way to reach those states, & Alexander feels like he is actually living through what the Three Old Men are sonly teaching & attempting to experience when he surrenders his sense of self & ego through the pleasures of the senses with Kandake & by smoking opium. If an individual is seeking these kind of spiritual resonances in their lives, I find it fascinating to consider these two very different approaches. The idea of renunciation has never appealed to me, as it is my belief that we have been given our senses as a gift & it is our prerogative to explore these gifts, given to us by nature don't forget, in their totality. As a fully signed up & unashamed sensualist - who also has a sprinkling of knowledge about psychology! - I find the idea of renunciation slightly different to the high-minded, outwardly respectable concept that it is supposed to appear as. I have long suspected that it could be a way for the human psyche to defend itself from raging & heart shattering disappointment; for if you can convince yourself & train your body to believe that you don't want something, the pain of not having that desire fulfilled becomes a lot less painful. In this respect I am very much in agreement with Nietzsche, who finds philosophies like Buddhism & religions such as Christianity particularly hostile to life. He maintains that a pagan is anybody who says "Yes!" to life. And sensualists, let it be remembered, are often frowned upon by the religious & moral majority, yet their quest & chosen path for deeper knowledge & connection with the world & other humans is as valid as anyone else's. Both approaches contain a shedding of the individual ego or sense of self - which it is argued, is merely an illusion in any case -, & perhaps the sensualist's sense of "supreme surrender & letting go" is even greater than that of the hermit who wears horribly uncomfortable (not to mention ugly!) clothing whilst eating only berries. Either way, the choice is for the individual to make & the ascetic way, in my mind, should not be given more acceptability or priority just because it is written of in books & given validity by the likes of the Dalai Lama (who for all his respect across the world is always a man & never a woman - just like the Christian sky God with the beard.) I will conclude here by repeating Alexander's thoughts when he is giving himself up body & soul to Kandake, in the guise/mask of another person when he says, "That which the Three Old Men had taught him was, at this moment, becoming a living adventure." The poet Arthur Rimbaud also believed that truth & bliss could be found by exploring alternative, potential personalities within an individual through the use of masks & role-play, & particularly the "derangement of the senses," & I would suggest that Klaus Mann is exploring all of these idea in great depth in these two extraordinary chapters. I have my way, as you, dear reader, will no doubt have yours. And as long as heavy moralising doesn't incur too strongly, it is something I will happily discuss over a fine cup of coffee or Earl Grey should our paths ever happen to cross!
And maybe, when all's said & done, maybe its all actually about... shock! horror!...balance!!! For what Klaus Mann is perhaps suggesting is that to be a complete ascetic & never indulge the senses & be completely teetotal is as misguided as being completely reliant on chemicals to achieve alternative states, with all the risks of addiction that that situation involves? Maybe we have to acknowledge both approaches & be ascetic when required, but also be ready & willing to let the Dionysian aspect of ecstasy, wine & sensuality be part of us as well, as ignoring that aspect of life can have its terrible outcomes also.
But back to the novel!
Alexander's journey & life is nearing its climax. Having murdered his friend Clitus & having as a true friend only Hephaestion, who has stood by him throughout, Alexander has been befriended by a repulsive character called Eumenes, a scheming Iago of the highest order. Having wormed his way into Alexander's intimate circle, he continues to win over Alexander's confidence although Alexander is unaware of his vicious scheming. Finally, even the gentle mannered Haphaestion snaps, & he punches Eumenes after being insulted by a particularly unsavoury remark. Alexander is horrified, but the affect on Haphaestion is even worse. The next day he asks to be excused from duty as he is feeling unwell but it soon becomes clear that he is seriously ill. The doctor warns Alexander about the seriousness of his most loyal friend's condition yet Alexander doesn't cancel any of his appointments & goes about his duties as normal. Finally, the doctor tells him that Haphaestion's condition is fatal, & although he rushes to his friend's side, he reaches him too late as Haphaestion has already passed away. At the side of his dead friend's body, Alexander comes face to face with the terrible reality that he has been running away from & trying to avert & conquer for his entire life: his mortality.
Alexander once again becomes stricken with grief & guilt but when he begins to recover his strength his behaviour follows a similar pattern. He becomes even more cruel & has the doctor who had failed to save Hephaestion crucified. He gives orders that singing & dancing is to be banned & anyone caught disobeying this order will be tortured & executed. He rages against the harmless people who live in the mountains & sends orders for them to be executed, but for this obvious narcissist who has become a complete pathological sadist, his reign is coming to its close.
With his people & the people of all the lands he has conquered terrified of him, & with the only real friends he had ever had both dead, Alexander begins to see the world through different eyes. He sees death everywhere & in everything, & he learns that the fortune teller who had foretold of the death of Hephaestion is now foretelling his own death. He is called back to Babylon, & he finds that nature, so often his friend & ally in journeys & battles previously, turns ferociously against him:
On his arrival in Babylon, his wife, Queen Roxane greets him, looking even more radiant than she had done previously, in a "close fitting dress covered with silvery scales jangling with jewels, snake belts & glittering decorations." (p. 193) "How is your friend Hephaestion?" she coolly asks him, to which tears spring to his eyes. "Oh, of course," she replied with a sparkle in her eyes, "he died."
After two weeks of feverish work, Alexander decides he must leave Babylon & conquer further afield, but on the final leg of the journey the weather turns against him, making the water still & brackish. He begins to hallucinate on his boat & talks to Clitus & Hephaeston, who have both been dead for some time. Finally, he collapses & is taken by the doctors to his quarters. When he awakens, his rages are so severe they hope he will fall unconscious again. He begins to feel calmer, however, but it is clear that the end is not far away. He begins to continually recount a tale to everyone who comes to see him:
As Alexander slips further into his madness, an angel appears before him & he talks to her of his life. As his life force ebbs away, she asks him, what, during his eventful life, has been more difficult, victory or defeat? Alexander reflects ruefully on this question before giving his reply:
The closing chapters of the novel are very moving & the two quotes above have continued to haunt me since I read them. There is an element of Stoic philosophy in both, & they contain a sense of the futility of trying to conquer time. As we are human beings, we are faced with the dreadful knowledge of our own mortality, & the transience of everything that exists. One day we will no longer be here, neither will all those we love, & eventually, humanity & all life will vanish as the Earth finally becomes unable to sustain life due to changes in the atmosphere as the sun dies. And somehow, from this knowledge, we have to struggle to make sense of it all & find a meaning in the things we think & do. Some people, such as Alexander & the likes of Donald Trump or Rupert Murdoch attempt to escape death by raging against others, chasing money & wielding power. In the end, Alexander recognises that his attempt to evade death has been futile, & Donald Trump will one day find that his enormous wealth, "Trump Towers" & an obsession with walls won't prevent the grim reaper from knocking on his door either. We all face the same ending. The curtain rises when we are born, we play our parts on the stage of life (both on stage with the masks or personas with which we show the world & back stage where we are alone with ourselves) & then, after the final act, the curtain falls. Nobody escapes. So the question becomes...how do we live with this knowledge? And the answer given on the statue is very clear: Countries, empires, wealth, ideologies, religions, can all be formed, sometimes in just one day, but for the Greek philosopher who scrawled on the statue, all this hoarding is in vain. "Eat, drink & make love," runs the message. It is an interesting one to ponder, & I can imagine it would send the Tories into raging convulsions as for them, the only thing worth doing is anything that makes mountains of money through the exploitation of others & the planet, & then working out how best to hoard it out of the reach of others less fortunate like a pathologically spoiled child. What an honourable way of spending our short time here on Earth!
Alexander's answer to the Angel's question that he could already sense defeat in victory, - a staple theme of Greek Tragedy also - is another bitter truth he has been forced to learn & accept. It is a completely different scenario, but one of the reasons I often feel melancholy & anxious is that I'm constantly reminded of this each & every day because of my CF. Because every time I cough or feel the port-a-cath hidden just under my skin on my chest, or do my treatments, I know that despite all I do to try & keep well, my CF will progress & that I too, when the time arrives, will have to shuffle off this mortal coil. The question is what do I do with my life having this knowledge? As of currently, I try to channel my limited energy into making the most of each & every day that I am here. After my meds & treatments are done, I try to prioritise what matters most to me. I know that how I spend my time is incredibly precious. So, spending time with my beautiful wife & people I love & care about rates extremely highly, writing blogs such as this, reading wonderful books & contemplating the beauty of art & the natural world. Singing & listening to my favourite music. Learning more about the gods, & of course! - the goddesses of Greece, Egypt & the Romans, & embracing the sacred fluidity of the Divine Feminine. Laughing wildly & in an unrestrained way, allowing myself to feel everything to the full - for as Oscar Wilde wrote, "The only vice is shallowness," - & if that means sobbing from the very depths of my soul on occasions then so be it. And also, as a sensualist (& a Fire!), enjoying my senses whilst I can. Sights, sounds, touch... &, by not repressing them & instead celebrating them, making them even more refined & more sensitive than they already are. This for me is The Way. As I said, the philosophy of renunciation is complete anathema to me. There will be plenty of time for me to focus on not using my beautiful senses when I am dead. Because, when measured against infinity, I have hardly any time at all to practise using & relishing them to the full whilst I am alive. And so, I guess in principal I agree with the statement under the statue. "Eat, drink & make love." Or, as Dante Gabriel Rossetti put it in his poem 'The Choice' from his House of Life collection:
This blog is not a defence of blind, senseless hedonism, however. What I am referring to is the worship of the senses & of life & our planet itself as something sacred & mystical, which it surely is. Hence also my adoration of the kinds of art that I respond so thrillingly to. My personal philosophy also requires me to attempt to tread softly. To love & honour all the animals because they too have sentient life. Which principally means respecting them & not eating them, & from where comes my long standing vegetarianism. They have been thrust into life just as I have, they had no say in what genetic imprint they were born with, just as I didn't & just as none of us have. Not one single life form is consulted first on what species it would choose to be. It all comes down to chance, in my opinion. But whatever source the miracle of life begins with, both they & I stem from this same source: the Divine Will. I noticed it whenever I gazed into the eyes of my first pet dog, Gelert, when I was a boy, & it is something I have felt for as long as I can remember, right back to my earliest memory of feeding the birds & adoring the colourful butterflies in my Nain & Taid's back garden in North Wales.
There are so many interesting ideas in Klaus Mann's Alexander, & it is a fascinating story with chilling undertones regarding the early 20th Century in Germany & just how devastating an impact a disturbed, powerful individual can wreak on society & the world at large. It also reminds the reader of the importance of not following orders blindly & learning to think for themselves. But I will remember most fondly the scintillating descriptions of the scenes in Babylon, its atmosphere of carnival & its celebration of style, fashion, beauty, women & the senses. The thought provoking two chapters on two completely different approaches on how to find the Brahman, that is "the ultimate reality underlying all phenomena," & whether that be pursued best through asceticism or aestheticism will also linger long in my memory, like a willowy ghost.
And perhaps, most of all, the relationship that Alexander had as a young child to the natural world, but how he completely lost that sense of wonder & connection as he became older & more obsessed with power & avoiding the nagging reminders of his own mortality. I don't consider myself particularly spiritual in the current sense of the word, I don't fast or meditate, & I certainly don't think very much of the current hipster fad for a watered down, very capitalism friendly form of western Buddhism which seems to be growing everywhere in popularity. But I do very much retain an innate sense of wonder at the beauty of the natural world & of the arts, & of the gods & goddesses of Greece. And also of course the wonder of love & romance, & the sublimity of the senses & our sensual experience of this crazy little thing called life. But there is one sentence which I will remember above all from this book, & it is one that is worth repeating before I finish this essay, & it reads thus:
"When Alexander rode out for the first time, it was a holiday in the whole city. The men wore their most grandiose clothes, narrow, fringed, as white as blossom or as colourful as parrots; the women, meanwhile, had on their most dazzling jewellery, & they swung to & fro full of promise, with their earrings & glittering necklaces." (p.91)
"There was no doubt about it, you did not find women made up so splendidly in Athens or in Pella as they were here in Babylon. These ones wore glittering necklaces which jangled lightly & encouragingly about their breasts, & coloured jewellery on their feet, knuckles, wrists & upper arms. In their made up faces, they had beautiful calm & enticing eyes. The soldiers, who had followed such mesmerising ladies to their remote little abodes, came back exhausted but blissful. Such exceptional & fantastic delights they had never experienced anywhere. Even just hinting at what they had experienced drove their friends crazy." (p. 90)
High Fashion in Ancient Babylon, Artist Unknown
But Babylon is also the high point of Alexander's reign as King. He very quickly becomes obsessed with the learned scholars of the city, demanding to know from them where he can find the secret of life, information on the various gods & fortune tellers, but they are unwilling to give him the information he seeks. "The nature of the gods is obscure," he is warned & they refuse to give him the answers he demands.
On leaving Babylon, his behaviour becomes more erratic & he begins to lose the unwavering, loyal support of his army. Demanding more & more from them as he attempts to conquer ever more remote corners of the world, even his friends begin to doubt him. Alexander, becoming increasingly aware of this, finds his paranoia escalating, & it reaches a sorry climax when he & his former friend, Clitus, face up to each other in a terrible battle of wills. Clitus is an expert storyteller, & regales those around him with tales about the gods & of the fickle nature of fortune. After an evening spent drinking heavily, Alexander demands that Clitus tells a happy story. Clitus delivers a scathing allegory about Alexander & their friendship, spelling out the dangers that Alexander faces if he continues on the same path. When Alexander demands that Clitus tell another story that describes him in far more glowing, glorious terms, Clitus stands before Alexander & declares, "Whenever I have thought about you, I have felt only pity. Didn't you once lay at my feet..." But before Clitus has finished his sentence, Alexander has run him through with his sword & Clitus drops down dead.
Following this brutal act, Alexander spends three days alone mourning for his friend, hoping to be relieved from his pain by insanity & finally allows his only other friend, Hephaestion, to see him. He begs Hephaestion to kill him but Hephaestion refuses. At this point he collapses into a deep sleep & begins to make a recovery.
Alexander is soon on the march again, & the next tribe he attempts to conquer are the Amazons. They put up an incredible fight, much to the chagrin of Alexander's soldiers, until finally the Amazons are defeated. Alexander then takes the Amazonian Queen, Roxanne, as his wife, but he rejects her on their wedding night. After this, he attempts to seduce her in the following days but she remains unmoved & is increasingly haughty & dismissive. Mann concludes that, "As always, after his most intimate defeats, he seemed to grow more extrovert, more domineering & inexorable than ever. He tyrannised his entourage, imposed harder punishments than before, & used ingenious oriental tortures." (p. 131)
Following this, Alexander becomes even more impatient for conquest. He orders his men to follow him even further to the East, for he is seeking the End of the World & intends to rule it himself. They themselves are demoralised & exhausted, but out of fear they follow him. He leads them to a terrible desert where many die of thirst, hunger & exhaustion & he himself is close to death. However, just as it appears that they will all perish, they come across a small town & are saved. In this town Alexander meets Three Old Men, who, seeking Brahman (the ultimate reality underlying all phenomena), have decided to only wear coarse clothing & have shunned the world in exchange for meditation, fasting & prayer. He showers them with questions about life & he enquires how it is possible to become calm & how he himself can find the Brahman:
"Alexander then learned, from these Three Old Men, how humans could be more sure of approaching the Brahman. Oh, he himself had started in completely the wrong way; as the Old Men did not recommend one's descendants, wealth or pious works, let alone warlike deeds - of which Alexander's whole life had been based - & which were bloodstained, as the path to redemption; they recommended renunciation: giving up the life of the senses." (p. 150) The final piece of advice Alexander is given comes when he is breaking free from their spell, however. They tell him, "He who sees himself in all beings & in all beings sees himself will enter, & not for any other reason, into the highest Brahman."
(p. 152)
But it is too late for Alexander to take their path. Their voices, instead of having "seductive power" as previously, "were now only waning & weak." He suddenly rushed from them, breaking the branches of bushes as he tore past them & "treading on flowers & small animals." And Mann notes how with painfully glowing eyes, the Three Old Men "watched him as he went off through the night, & saw how he offended the animal world & distanced himself from the way of knowledge & redemption." (p. 152) There is a very stark contrast here with Alexander as he had been as a youth, when he had loved animals dearly.
Following this encounter with the Three Old Men, Alexander is then shown another way to approach life in one of my favourite chapters in the book, & this alternative is all the more striking as it comes immediately after his encounter with the ascetic Three Old Men. For instead of asceticism, Alexander is shown bliss & forgetfulness through aestheticism & the senses, & the sense of playing with identity. For after his flight from the Three Wise Men, Alexander & his followers reach the palaces of the Indian Queen, Kandake. She & her people are unwarlike & greet them with joyous greetings & garlands, but her son, Kandaulus, mistakes Alexander for his right hand man & lieutenant, Hapheastion. Finding humour in this situation, Alexander goes along with the mistake & with a mischievous smile, pretends to be Hapheastion. He tells Kandaulus many things about Alexander (himself) & is then introduced to the Queen as Haphaestion, & in so doing he has to maintain the pretence about his identity. Although it begins as a game, Alexander actually finds the situation extremely informative & liberating. Mann writes, "Alexander had everyone call him Haphaestion, & he ended up believing in this transformation, which he found strangely flattering & which confused him in a pleasant way. "It is so easy then to lose yourself," he thought in a dreamy daze. "How carefree I feel... What a charming game," he thought as he told others about himself. Without any pangs of conscience, he enjoyed the impermissible, frivolous aspect of this situation." (p. 155-156)
This playing with identity is only the first step to the relinquishing of the ego that the Three Old Men had informed him was necessary to find peace in the previous scenes. As Alexander is enjoying his role as somebody else, he is then introduced to Queen Kandake.
Greta Garbo in Mata Hari (1931)
She is a beautiful & seductive woman, & they begin to talk together. Shortly afterwards she leads him into her lavish quarters, that are hung with tapestries & filled with incense, & leaning back on the velvet cushions she hands him a silver pipe & says, "Let's smoke."
At first he is reluctant. But their conversation mirrors in some ways what the Three Old Men had told him earlier...
Alexander: "But I have never smoked."
Kandake: "It will do you good, my dear Haphestion."
Alexander: (pleasantly confused) "I really don't want to..."
Kandake: "But you are not you.
Close your eyes....
Don't you like being you?"
Alexander: "Very much."
Kandake: "Shall we sleep together?"
Alexander: "I don't think..."
Kandake: (smiling at him with her misty eyes)
"But you are not you," she teased him.
"But it is you, alright, but it's not you, because you
are not you, yet it is you.
Oh, how much..."
"But you are not you," she teased him.
"But it is you, alright, but it's not you, because you
are not you, yet it is you.
Oh, how much..."
As you can see, we are very much in Twin Peaks territory here, & this scene could easily be transferred into one where Audrey is trying to lure Cooper into bed (Ah, darlings! We should be so lucky!)
Alexander's resolve (just like Cooper's probably!) is waning considerably at this point as he is spellbound by Kandake's charms & is also about to lose his sense of self further by smoking opium. As he does so, it has a monumental affect on his being, & he experiences the kind of things that the Three Old Men had been telling him he would experience if he followed their, very different, approach. Mann explains:
'He took a few deep puffs from the silver pipe. The ceiling moved away & the walls moved apart. Circles & figures came towards him from the dreary blueness. That which the Three Old Men had tried to teach him was at this moment becoming a living adventure in a sweet way which it was impossible to escape from. The struggle with the self did not matter any more, & what bliss it was to let yourself fall. Above all, action did not matter any more, & if action was anything, it was sin. With this, a tempting kind of dream knowledge streamed in upon him that was stirred up from the darkness. A very vague & general type of knowledge it is true, but, he felt, this it was which led to the innermost part of the universe, which the Three Old Men, who had premonitions of things, had called Brahman.'
"Not you, because you are not you, yet it is you. Oh, how much..." purred Kandake once again above him, making strange, enticing sounds. He sank powerless into her inviting embrace, which was cool & soft & enclosed him.' (p.159)
Shortly afterwards, Kandake, instructing him further, asks him to say the syllable "Om." He does this willingly as he wants to approach as closely as possible the great intoxication of knowledge:
"Om - Om - Om," he babbled monotonously, a hundred times. He lost the consciousness with which he normally lived; & instead he moved towards another, limitless one, of which he was a nameless part...
Dissolving with the wind, he thought,
that was the doctrine..." (p. 159-160)
Dissolving with the wind, he thought,
that was the doctrine..." (p. 159-160)
And maybe, when all's said & done, maybe its all actually about... shock! horror!...balance!!! For what Klaus Mann is perhaps suggesting is that to be a complete ascetic & never indulge the senses & be completely teetotal is as misguided as being completely reliant on chemicals to achieve alternative states, with all the risks of addiction that that situation involves? Maybe we have to acknowledge both approaches & be ascetic when required, but also be ready & willing to let the Dionysian aspect of ecstasy, wine & sensuality be part of us as well, as ignoring that aspect of life can have its terrible outcomes also.
But back to the novel!
Alexander's journey & life is nearing its climax. Having murdered his friend Clitus & having as a true friend only Hephaestion, who has stood by him throughout, Alexander has been befriended by a repulsive character called Eumenes, a scheming Iago of the highest order. Having wormed his way into Alexander's intimate circle, he continues to win over Alexander's confidence although Alexander is unaware of his vicious scheming. Finally, even the gentle mannered Haphaestion snaps, & he punches Eumenes after being insulted by a particularly unsavoury remark. Alexander is horrified, but the affect on Haphaestion is even worse. The next day he asks to be excused from duty as he is feeling unwell but it soon becomes clear that he is seriously ill. The doctor warns Alexander about the seriousness of his most loyal friend's condition yet Alexander doesn't cancel any of his appointments & goes about his duties as normal. Finally, the doctor tells him that Haphaestion's condition is fatal, & although he rushes to his friend's side, he reaches him too late as Haphaestion has already passed away. At the side of his dead friend's body, Alexander comes face to face with the terrible reality that he has been running away from & trying to avert & conquer for his entire life: his mortality.
Alexander once again becomes stricken with grief & guilt but when he begins to recover his strength his behaviour follows a similar pattern. He becomes even more cruel & has the doctor who had failed to save Hephaestion crucified. He gives orders that singing & dancing is to be banned & anyone caught disobeying this order will be tortured & executed. He rages against the harmless people who live in the mountains & sends orders for them to be executed, but for this obvious narcissist who has become a complete pathological sadist, his reign is coming to its close.
With his people & the people of all the lands he has conquered terrified of him, & with the only real friends he had ever had both dead, Alexander begins to see the world through different eyes. He sees death everywhere & in everything, & he learns that the fortune teller who had foretold of the death of Hephaestion is now foretelling his own death. He is called back to Babylon, & he finds that nature, so often his friend & ally in journeys & battles previously, turns ferociously against him:
"Everywhere the clouds drifted along only in order to ridicule him, & everywhere water was his enemy, as was the rough earth, the moving foliage & the whole of Nature, which had rebelled against him." (p. 192)
On his arrival in Babylon, his wife, Queen Roxane greets him, looking even more radiant than she had done previously, in a "close fitting dress covered with silvery scales jangling with jewels, snake belts & glittering decorations." (p. 193) "How is your friend Hephaestion?" she coolly asks him, to which tears spring to his eyes. "Oh, of course," she replied with a sparkle in her eyes, "he died."
After two weeks of feverish work, Alexander decides he must leave Babylon & conquer further afield, but on the final leg of the journey the weather turns against him, making the water still & brackish. He begins to hallucinate on his boat & talks to Clitus & Hephaeston, who have both been dead for some time. Finally, he collapses & is taken by the doctors to his quarters. When he awakens, his rages are so severe they hope he will fall unconscious again. He begins to feel calmer, however, but it is clear that the end is not far away. He begins to continually recount a tale to everyone who comes to see him:
"Do you remember," he asked again & again, "that time in the land of Anchiale when we found the saying underneath the statue of a king?" It said, "A country can be founded in one day. But you, stranger, eat, drink & make love! Anything else that humans possess, such as titles, wealth or property, is not worth talking about."
(p. 204)
As Alexander slips further into his madness, an angel appears before him & he talks to her of his life. As his life force ebbs away, she asks him, what, during his eventful life, has been more difficult, victory or defeat? Alexander reflects ruefully on this question before giving his reply:
"I cannot distinguish between the two of them any more."
(p.207)
The closing chapters of the novel are very moving & the two quotes above have continued to haunt me since I read them. There is an element of Stoic philosophy in both, & they contain a sense of the futility of trying to conquer time. As we are human beings, we are faced with the dreadful knowledge of our own mortality, & the transience of everything that exists. One day we will no longer be here, neither will all those we love, & eventually, humanity & all life will vanish as the Earth finally becomes unable to sustain life due to changes in the atmosphere as the sun dies. And somehow, from this knowledge, we have to struggle to make sense of it all & find a meaning in the things we think & do. Some people, such as Alexander & the likes of Donald Trump or Rupert Murdoch attempt to escape death by raging against others, chasing money & wielding power. In the end, Alexander recognises that his attempt to evade death has been futile, & Donald Trump will one day find that his enormous wealth, "Trump Towers" & an obsession with walls won't prevent the grim reaper from knocking on his door either. We all face the same ending. The curtain rises when we are born, we play our parts on the stage of life (both on stage with the masks or personas with which we show the world & back stage where we are alone with ourselves) & then, after the final act, the curtain falls. Nobody escapes. So the question becomes...how do we live with this knowledge? And the answer given on the statue is very clear: Countries, empires, wealth, ideologies, religions, can all be formed, sometimes in just one day, but for the Greek philosopher who scrawled on the statue, all this hoarding is in vain. "Eat, drink & make love," runs the message. It is an interesting one to ponder, & I can imagine it would send the Tories into raging convulsions as for them, the only thing worth doing is anything that makes mountains of money through the exploitation of others & the planet, & then working out how best to hoard it out of the reach of others less fortunate like a pathologically spoiled child. What an honourable way of spending our short time here on Earth!
Alexander's answer to the Angel's question that he could already sense defeat in victory, - a staple theme of Greek Tragedy also - is another bitter truth he has been forced to learn & accept. It is a completely different scenario, but one of the reasons I often feel melancholy & anxious is that I'm constantly reminded of this each & every day because of my CF. Because every time I cough or feel the port-a-cath hidden just under my skin on my chest, or do my treatments, I know that despite all I do to try & keep well, my CF will progress & that I too, when the time arrives, will have to shuffle off this mortal coil. The question is what do I do with my life having this knowledge? As of currently, I try to channel my limited energy into making the most of each & every day that I am here. After my meds & treatments are done, I try to prioritise what matters most to me. I know that how I spend my time is incredibly precious. So, spending time with my beautiful wife & people I love & care about rates extremely highly, writing blogs such as this, reading wonderful books & contemplating the beauty of art & the natural world. Singing & listening to my favourite music. Learning more about the gods, & of course! - the goddesses of Greece, Egypt & the Romans, & embracing the sacred fluidity of the Divine Feminine. Laughing wildly & in an unrestrained way, allowing myself to feel everything to the full - for as Oscar Wilde wrote, "The only vice is shallowness," - & if that means sobbing from the very depths of my soul on occasions then so be it. And also, as a sensualist (& a Fire!), enjoying my senses whilst I can. Sights, sounds, touch... &, by not repressing them & instead celebrating them, making them even more refined & more sensitive than they already are. This for me is The Way. As I said, the philosophy of renunciation is complete anathema to me. There will be plenty of time for me to focus on not using my beautiful senses when I am dead. Because, when measured against infinity, I have hardly any time at all to practise using & relishing them to the full whilst I am alive. And so, I guess in principal I agree with the statement under the statue. "Eat, drink & make love." Or, as Dante Gabriel Rossetti put it in his poem 'The Choice' from his House of Life collection:
"Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die...
Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky...
Now kiss, and think that there are really those,
My own high-bosom'd beauty, who increase
Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!
Through many years they toil; then on a day
They die not,—for their life was death,—but cease;
And round their narrow lips the mould falls close."
This blog is not a defence of blind, senseless hedonism, however. What I am referring to is the worship of the senses & of life & our planet itself as something sacred & mystical, which it surely is. Hence also my adoration of the kinds of art that I respond so thrillingly to. My personal philosophy also requires me to attempt to tread softly. To love & honour all the animals because they too have sentient life. Which principally means respecting them & not eating them, & from where comes my long standing vegetarianism. They have been thrust into life just as I have, they had no say in what genetic imprint they were born with, just as I didn't & just as none of us have. Not one single life form is consulted first on what species it would choose to be. It all comes down to chance, in my opinion. But whatever source the miracle of life begins with, both they & I stem from this same source: the Divine Will. I noticed it whenever I gazed into the eyes of my first pet dog, Gelert, when I was a boy, & it is something I have felt for as long as I can remember, right back to my earliest memory of feeding the birds & adoring the colourful butterflies in my Nain & Taid's back garden in North Wales.
There are so many interesting ideas in Klaus Mann's Alexander, & it is a fascinating story with chilling undertones regarding the early 20th Century in Germany & just how devastating an impact a disturbed, powerful individual can wreak on society & the world at large. It also reminds the reader of the importance of not following orders blindly & learning to think for themselves. But I will remember most fondly the scintillating descriptions of the scenes in Babylon, its atmosphere of carnival & its celebration of style, fashion, beauty, women & the senses. The thought provoking two chapters on two completely different approaches on how to find the Brahman, that is "the ultimate reality underlying all phenomena," & whether that be pursued best through asceticism or aestheticism will also linger long in my memory, like a willowy ghost.
And perhaps, most of all, the relationship that Alexander had as a young child to the natural world, but how he completely lost that sense of wonder & connection as he became older & more obsessed with power & avoiding the nagging reminders of his own mortality. I don't consider myself particularly spiritual in the current sense of the word, I don't fast or meditate, & I certainly don't think very much of the current hipster fad for a watered down, very capitalism friendly form of western Buddhism which seems to be growing everywhere in popularity. But I do very much retain an innate sense of wonder at the beauty of the natural world & of the arts, & of the gods & goddesses of Greece. And also of course the wonder of love & romance, & the sublimity of the senses & our sensual experience of this crazy little thing called life. But there is one sentence which I will remember above all from this book, & it is one that is worth repeating before I finish this essay, & it reads thus:
"He who sees himself in all beings & in all beings
sees himself, will enter, & not for any other reason,
into the highest Brahman."
(p. 152)
Stay Beautiful.
Bibliography/Works Cited:
Klaus Mann (Tr by David Carter),
Alexander: A Novel of Utopia.
Modern Voices, Hesperus Press Ltd. (2007 [1929])
Frederick Spotts, Cursed Legacy:
The Tragic Life of Klaus Mann. Yale Press. (2016)
David Lynch, Twin Peaks, Season 1 (1990-91)
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Sonnet LXXI 'The Choice'
in The House of Life (1871)
