University of Groningen
The search for self-awareness Middel, Kim Peronne
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Middel, K. P. (2018). The search for self-awareness: The road to national identity on Iceland, sæc. xiii-xx. University of Groningen.
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Chapter 1 Alexanders saga. The universal validity of thought.1
Oc ef þu Alexander lifir sva sem Aristotiles hefir kent þer. þa man þitt nafn vppi meðan heimrenn stendr Alexanders saga
This chapter is the first in a series of four which will investigate the use of contemporary thought in Icelandic texts written between the Middle Ages and the twenty-first century in order to map the development of Icelandic self-awareness during that period. The first text chosen for investigation is the Alexanders saga, the saga about model king par excellence Alexander the Great: a text about ideal kingship translated during a time of political turbulence on Iceland. Iceland found itself on the brink of losing its independence to the Norwegian Crown, and in this setting foreign ideas on kingship were presented to an Icelandic audience, in the Icelandic language and in an Icelandic literary mold: a saga. With the translation of the saga’s source, Walter of Châtillon’s Alexandreis, the connection between Iceland and the outside world that was mentioned in the Introduction took place in an extraordinary political-historical context. This occurrence is likely to have necessitated modifications to the ideas on kingship in the original text, in which case the saga would show input coming from the Icelandic environment in which it came into being. For this reason, Alexanders saga2 offers the best starting point to
look for signs of Icelandic identity, and as such it calls for closer inspection.3
The Alexandreis was translated towards the end of the pre-colonial era on Iceland, which lasted from its settlement in the ninth century until 1264 AD, in a situation of political instability and during a shift in power to Norwegian rule.4
1 This chapter has been published as Kim P. Middel, ‘Alexanders saga. Classical ethics in Iceland´s Alexander epic’, Viator 45-1 (2014), 121-148.
2 Abbreviated as AS. The text edition used is Finnur Jónsson (ed.), Alexanders saga: Islandsk oversættelse ved Brandr Jónsson (biskop til Hólar 1263-1264), Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1925, not Andrea de Leeuw van Weenen’s (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2009), as Jónsson’s is the most recent critical edition. For Alexandreis the edition used is Marvin L. Colker (ed.), Galteri de Castellione Alexandreis (Thesaurus Mundi 17), Padua: Antenore, 1978. 3 Some might argue that Heimskringla, for its subject matter and author, would be just as suitable. However, due to the fact that Heimskringla was composed earlier than AS and has no direct link to a foreign counterpart from the mediaeval mainstream (outside of Scandinavia), in my opinion it offers fewer possibilities to research any impact of the immediate presence of an outside world on the Icelandic self.
4 The date of translation is usually fixed between 1260 and 1262, based on the fact that bishop Brandr Jónsson is mentioned as the author in some of the later MSS, which I will discuss later on. Considering the date of the oldest extant MS (AM 519a 4o, ±1280) and following the textual analysis of MS AM 665 XX by Helgason, dating the saga around this time seems appropriate. See Jón Helgason (ed.), Alexanders saga. The Arna-Magnaean manuscript 519a, 4o, Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1966, xxvii, note 1.
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Since the organisation of governance on Iceland in the tenth century, Iceland had been in effect an oligarchy of chieftains who ruled in district and national assemblies.5 Thus the balance in the country’s social-political structure was
maintained by a relatively small number of people chosen by and representing farmers.6 This situation of relative stability lasted until the beginning of the
thirteenth century, by which time some of the governing families had been able to consolidate power by unifying chieftanries.
What followed was an era known as the Sturlungaöld (1220-1262/1264), during which internal warfare between the chieftains on Iceland reduced or annihilated the power of some and consolidated that of others. By this time, the Norwegian Crown had started to work its way into power on Iceland. In this it was helped by Icelandic chieftains who had become members of the Norwegian court and possibly saw chances of expanding their own influence by becoming representatives of the king on Iceland.7 Given the situation of increasing turmoil,
some chieftains sought help from the Norwegian Crown, which made it easier for the Norwegian king to expand his influence and tie people to himself.8 By the
second half of the 1250s, tax obligations to the Norwegian crown were accepted by part of the country, and by 1262, enough pressure had been put upon the Icelanders for them to submit and swear allegiance to the Crown.9 As of 1264,
Iceland was a dependency of Norway, and after the Kalmar Union in 1397, it became a dependency of Denmark, which it would officially remain until 1944.
Another factor that, by the end of this era, is likely to have contributed to the increasing instability in Iceland’s social-political structure, and ultimately to its disintegration, was the start of the so-called Little Ice Age in 1258, a period of time during which the average temperature dropped by approximately 4 degrees.10 The
consequences of this climate change for agriculture and life on Iceland were significant.
5 According to Icelandic sources, there were 39 chieftains who ruled three to a district, though it is unsure whether this was indeed the case, as Karlsson points out. See Gunnar Karlsson, The history of Iceland, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000, 72-73. 6 See Einar Ólafur Sveinsson, The age of the Sturlungs. Icelandic civilization in the thirteenth century (Islandica 36), Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966 (19531), 8-9. This construct is not quite unlike the social-political structure of ancient Rome with its patrones and clientele; see Introduction, note 12.
7 Sveinsson, The age of the Sturlungs, 12.
8 The first significant step in this direction was in 1220, with chieftain Snorri Sturluson´s offer to talk other Icelandic chieftains into submitting to the Crown; see Karlsson, History, 80.
9 Gunnar Karlsson, Iceland´s 1100 years. The History of a Marginal Society, London: Hurst and Company, 2000, 85.
10 The Little Ice Age is commonly accepted to have commenced in 1258 due to the effects of a volcanic eruption in the tropics (most likely Indonesia), and the effects of the climate change on Iceland right after that date have been noticed in archeological finds. See Zach Zorich, ‘Letter from Iceland: Surviving the Little Ice Age’, Archaeology 65-5 (2012):
http://archive.archaeology.org/1209/letter/iceland_hjalmarvik_irminger_east_greenland_ current.html (accessed January 5th, 2018).
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It is because of this historical-political backdrop that modifications of the Alexandreis – a text about ideal kingship produced in a time of political transition – may be expected. Furthermore, this type of text is likely to have required adaptation as well in order to accommodate the understanding of an audience that may have been familiar with king’s sagas, but not necessarily with a text featuring a king straight from the mediaeval literary and ideological mainstream with classical roots. The question is whether the translator was able to handle and pass on the ideas that lie at the root of the Alexandreis successfully. The goal of this study is to discern signs of adaptation for an Icelandic audience, the method chosen is an analysis of the line of thought that underlies Alexander’s kingship in Alexanders saga by examining ideas on kingship in the Alexandreis, in connection with its source, Quintus Curtius Rufus’ Historiæ Alexandri magni,11 and by
comparing both texts.
First of all, the function of Aristotle’s speech about good kingship in the Alexandreis will be defined both as a means of providing an update to the ethics passed on from its source, the Historiæ Alexandri magni, and as a means of assessing Alexander’s actions in the narrative. I will demonstrate that Walter of Châtillon wrote the speech by Aristotle about good kingship in order to disconnect Alexander’s qualities from their classical frame of reference and to provide a new one. By describing Alexander’s virtues in general terms, Walter was able to update the image of Alexander as a king for his own time. Furthermore, I will show that the speech functions as a tropological program by which Alexander’s behaviour is assessed in the narrative that follows the speech. I will propose that the program in general, and Walter’s addition, in particular, of reverentia sapientiæ to the spectrum of royal virtues enabled the update of the king’s image that apparently was regarded necessary for understanding by Walter’s 12th-century audience.
The analysis of thought in the Alexandreis is followed by a close comparison with its counterpart in the Alexanders saga. I will argue that the translator has ascribed the speech the same key role Walter did in constructing the king’s image. I endeavour to show that the Icelandic Alexander was assessed by the same standard of ethics as his 12th-century Latin counterpart, and demonstrate the craft
with which the translator managed to keep the original line of thought intact whilst effecting his own update. I will propose that both in the Alexandreis and the Alexanders saga, Alexander’s downfall is not a gradual process: it is announced in three steps. My last conclusion will be that the line of thought underlying all three Alexanders – Curtius’, Walter’s and the Icelandic author’s – has universal validity. This chapter closes with some thoughts on the visibility, or lack thereof, of the cultural-historical environment in which the saga was composed in the king’s image, and on the direction in which this points. With this study I hope to provide a
11 Abbreviated as HAM; the text edition used is Carlo M. Lucarini (ed.), Q. Curtius Rufus Historiæ, Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2009.
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valid starting point for further research of signs of Icelandic self-awareness, in thought.
THE CLASSICAL CONNECTION
In his Historiæ Alexandri magni, Quintus Curtius Rufus (sc i-ii)12 states that
Alexander would have conquered his superbia, had he been able to maintain his temperance to the end of his life.13 It is precisely this popular topos of superbia or
pride that determines Alexander’s downfall in both Curtius’ text and the Alexandreis. Curtius chose it as a key feature of the latter of the two main themes constituting Alexander’s character, as identified by Baynham: the first being whether Alexander was able to remain worthy of his fortune, and the second being how this influenced the process of his moral demise.14 He had Alexander’s superbia
manifest itself in his unnatural pursuit of world domination and recognition as Jupiter’s son;15 the relation between his virtues and vices determined the workings
of fate, and as superbia, the most serious of vices, got the upper hand, Alexander’s downfall was the logical result. I say logical, because superbia in antiquity has an ethical connotation that implies doing the wrong thing, i.e. acting against the natural order of things. Being the gravest of human offenses, it can only lead to self-destruction.16 Curtius leant on this specifically stoic notion of virtus/gloria and
scelus/superbia in Lucan’s Bellum Civile as deciding factors in defining a hero.17
Walter of Châtillon (±1135-1203) duly followed. Adapting Curtius’ Historiæ is likely to have been facilitated by the fact that the text is of a historiographic
12 Not much is known about Curtius Rufus, and the dating of his Historiæ Alexandri magni (sc i-ii) is based on language, style and references to other authors. See Elizabeth Baynham, Alexander the Great. The unique history of Quintus Curtius, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998, 58; Gabriele John, Johannes Sibelis, and Heinrich Weismann, Curtius Rufus’ Alexandergeschichte (Klassiker der Geschichtschreibung), Stuttgart: Phaidon, 1987, ix.
13 HAM III, xii-18,19 (Lucarini 33): ‘Equidem hac continentia animi si ad ultimum vitæ perseverare potuisset, feliciorem fuisse crederem (…). Si<c> vicisset profecto superbiam atque iram (…).’
14 See Baynham, Alexander the Great, 165.
15 HAM IV, vii-8 (Lucarini 64): ‘Sed ingens cupido animum stimulabat adeundi Iovem, quem generis sui auctorem haud contentus mortali fastigio aut credebat esse aut credi volebat.’
16 Alexandreis IX 3-4: ‘Ille deorum emulus in terris.’
17 See Andreas Glock, ‘Alexander Gallicus? Die Alexandreis Walters von Châtillon als Fall impliziter antik-mittelalterlicher Dependenz und Selbstkonstituierung’, in Jan Cölln, Susanna Friede, and Hartmut Wulfram (eds.), Alexanderdichtungen im Mittelalter. Kulturelle Selbstbestimmung im Kontext literarischer Beziehungen, Göttingen: Wallstein, 2000, 280-81; Hartmut Wulfram, ‘Explizite Selbstkonstituierung’, above 228; Baynham, Alexander the Great, 165-169; Henriette Harich, Alexander epicus. Studien zur Alexandreis Walters von Châtillon(Dissertationen der Karl-Franzens Universität 72), Graz: Technische Universität, 1986, 222; Vanessa Gorman, ‘Lucan’s epic Artisteia and the hero of the Bellum Civile’, The Classical Journal 96-3 (2001), 263-264.
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nature, with the supposed intention of providing empirical evidence, which was common for classical Alexander texts in the Latin tradition.18 Its historiographic
character produced a text that was suitable for adaptation by later authors, of whom Walter is the most representative.19 Not only was the Alexandreis
(±1178-1182) influenced by the narrative in the Historiæ, Walter also adopted the ethics underlying the construction of Alexander’s persona. As a secretary to Henry of France (1121-1175), archbishop of Reims, and later on as a notary at the court of Henry’s successor William of Champagne (1135–1202), to whom the Alexandreis was dedicated, Walter was bound to have been familiar with concepts of power and court. He let the balance between Alexander’s virtues and superbia play the same key function in shaping Alexander as Curtius did.20 The big question is how a
12th-century author was able to achieve this in a way that simultaneously provided
an update for his own time.
ALEXANDER GUALTERIENSIS
There are several theories as to how Walter effected what could be called a disantiquation of Curtius’ Alexander, whilst preserving the two main themes of Alexander remaining worthy of his fortune, and how this effected his fall.21 It is
clear that Walter had to disconnect Alexander’s characteristics from their classical framework – in the void that consequently ensued, he would effect a situation in which he could let Alexander’s virtues and vices coincide with mediaeval-Christian concepts of royal virtue or lack thereof.
First off, he dehistorified places and events,22 and in addition, he
dehistorified Alexander as a king. The solution he chose was to have no-one less than Aristotle present, as a tropological program, the mediaeval king’s virtues that he wanted to ascribe to Alexander in Book I.23 This accounts for the fact that in the
consequent narrative, Walter had no need to shed extensive light on Alexander’s characteristics beyond a stereotypical description in sententiæ:24 his character was
18 As opposed to the Greek tradition and its derivatives, which present events without claiming historicity, and the romanticising vernacular tradition such as the Roman d’Alexandre.
19 See Baynham, Alexander the Great, 30-32; George Cary, The medieval Alexander, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967 (19561) 17; Roger T. Pritchard, Walter of Châtillon. The Alexandreis, Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1986, 6. 20 See Glock, ‘Alexander gallicus?’, 281.
21 Cary sees Alexander’s relationship to fortune as that of – Christian – man to divine will, and observes an allegorical, impartial Fortuna; see Cary, The medieval Alexander, 202 (note 19). Harich observes that Fortuna feeds Alexander’s greed, but is not the overall cause of his demise, and Alexander’s superbia lies in his aiming for world dominion; see Harich, Alexander epicus, 222 and 231.
22 See Glock, ‘Alexander gallicus?’, 285. 23 Alexandreis I, 82-183.
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simply tested by the program. Testing Alexander’s actions by the program offers a plausible explanation as to why his character does not undergo any development throughout the narrative, or why his actions were judged generally and not by the situation in which they occurred.
Because of the tropological angle, there is cause for calling the Alexandreis the poetic equivalent of a king’s mirror,25 and this is supported by the narrative’s
framework: the philosopher instructing the king.26 This was unprecedented in
Alexander literature and it is a reference to the 12th-century notion of the rex
sapiens and of political success being linked to intellectual development.27 It is also
reflected in Walter’s addition of reverentia sapientis to the scala of Alexander’s virtues and puts him in line with contemporary moralists who used Alexander’s relation to Aristotle as an example for mediaeval kings.28
Walter begins by presenting the four worldly virtues for kings – virtus, temperantia, iustitia, and sapientia – directly or indirectly in Aristotle’s speech, setting the pace for the rest of the narrative.29 The specific derivatives of these
virtues that he uses to characterise Alexander throughout the Alexandreis – the positives virtus militaris, clementia, pietas/liberalitas, gloria and reverentia sapientis on the one hand, the negative cupido habendi on the other – signify both sides of the balance between virtue and vice; other characteristics identified are subordinate to these.30 The positives are comprised by reverentia sapientis, as
Alexander pays heed to Aristotle, and fill in gloria; the only negative fills in superbia. Given this premise, it would follow that predominant characteristics in the narrative on either side of the balance decide Alexander’s status of being a rex utilis or inutilis respectively31 – the moment cupido habendi gets the upper hand, an
abrupt change from utilis to inutilis would be the logical consequence after a check
25 Maura K. Lafferty, Walter of Châtillon’s Alexandreis. Epic and the problem of historical understanding, Turnhout: Brepols, 1998, 66.
26 There are several arguments for and against this interpretation of Aristotle’s speech. Harich sees a contemporary guideline for Christian rulers; see Henriette Harich, ‘Parce humili, facilis oranti frange superbum. Aristoteles in der Alexandreis Walters von Châtillon’, Grazer Beiträge 12/13 (1985-1986), 147-69. Kratz on the other hand considers them to be portrayed as outdated, pagan ideas from Antiquity; see Dennis M. Kratz, Mocking epic. Waltharius, Alexandreis and the problem of christian heroism, Madrid: Ediciones Jose Porru a Turanzas, 1980, 80-87. Lafferty states that in the 12th century, Aristotle is the master of the argument, not of ethics, and that he is brought forward to investigate the relationship betwee power and learning; see Lafferty, Walter of Châtillon’s Alexandreis, 100.
27 For the notion of the rex sapiens that was in vogue in the twelfth century, see Wilhelm Berges, Die Fürstenspiegel des hohen und späten Mittelalters (Monumenta Germaniae Historica 2), Stuttgart: Hiersemann, 1952 (19381) 67; Bernard Guenée, States and rulers in later medieval Europe, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1985, 71.
28 See Cary, The medieval Alexander, 105-106.
29 Directly: virtus I, 115-163; temperantia I, 164-174; iustitia I, 105-114; 175-183; indirectly sapientia: (I, 82-9).
30 They are a.o. pudor, continentia libidinum, paupertas, reverentia recti and ira.
31 See Ármann Jakobsson, Í leit að konungi. Konungsmynd íslenskra konungasagna, Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 1998, 191.
27 with Aristotle’s program.
The first of the specific virtues, virtus militaris, takes up one third of Aristotle’s speech.32 The ideal is that of a king who goes to war, is the first to
deliver an attack, sets an example for his men, and gives guidance to and confers with his commanding officers.33 Alexander meets these requirements all the way
up until the last book of the Alexandreis. It is not surprising that virtue in combat takes a predominant position in the program, as Alexander’s military enterprises set the framework for the story and thereby for the elaboration of the other characteristics,34 the most prominent one being clementia.
In his military actions, the king is first and foremost required by the program to show clemency to those who deserve it, and deal appropriately with those who do not.35 The program presents clementia in connection with ira, or to
be precise, with the positive ira refrenata.36. The importance of displaying
clementia to the deserving is reiterated in the narrative by an allegorical representation in book four,37 and the objective is clear: it keeps the reign intact.38
When called for, ira is legitimate, as it is the appropriate response to superbia towards the king,39 and refraining from actions prompted by ira is even better,
because it makes the king’s clementia shine all the more: it is a beneficium allowing the king to claim the moral high ground.40 This positive ira is also the incentive for
Alexander’s first military action,41 whose success is determined by clementia. It has
justifiably been concluded that clementia is the most significant trait of Alexander,42 but it is important to recognise that the stereotype clementia – ira
refrenata plays an essential role in this.
32 Alexandreis I, 115-143.
33 Alexandreis II, 433: ‘hostibus expositus ante omnia signa suorum cornipedem uexans (…) choruscat (…) armipotens Macedo.’
34 Conquest was also one of the two main features of Alexander in mediaeval exemplary literature, the other being munificence; see Barbara Sargent-Baur, ‘Alexander and the Conte du Graal’, Arthurian Literature 14 (1996), 4.
35 Alexandreis I, 115: ‘Parce humili, facilis oranti frange superbum.’
36 ira refrenata is discussed later in the program; I, 181: ‘Vindictam differ donec pertranseat ira.’ It is named explicitly in Alexander’s clementia towards Porus: IX, 319, ‘Ergo refrenata mutati pectoris ira…’
37 Alexandreis IV, 420-421: ‘Assidet hiis stabilitque deæ Clementia regnum, sola docens miseris misereri et parcere victis’. Darius praying to the gods that his realm be handed over to clemens victor Alexander, if he himself is not to maintain it, in IV, 62 is for the same reason: ‘primum, queso, michi regnum stabilite meisque. Quod michi si tolli iam prefinistis (…) regnum Asiæ me post hic tam pius hostis habeto, tam clemens victor.’ It is implicit that Alexander’s clemency will ensure stability.
38 Alexandreis I, 342: ‘Instabile regnum est, quod non clementia firmat.’
39 ira as a negative appears in those passages where it is no longer refrenata; e.g. the deaths at the hands of Alexander of Kallisthenes, Hermelaos and Kleitos, who were not superbi: IX, 7-8, ‘etenim testatur eorum finis amicicias regum non esse perhennes.’
40 E.g. IV, 84-85: ‘...quanto clementior hoste hostis es.’
41 Alexandreis I, 30-32: ‘…Darium dare iura Pelasgis gentibus imperiique iugo patris arua prementem audit et indignans his uocibus exprimit iram…’
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As much as clementia is about doing the right thing to those conquered, pietas and liberalitas are about doing the right thing to those equal in rank43 and to
the king’s armed forces, respectively. As far as pietas goes, the program is clear: the king has to be deferential.44 In Alexander’s case, pietas is specified in the narrative
by his display of decency and modesty towards others; that is, those of similar rank.45 For instance, he treats Darius’ relatives with pudor and pudicitia, protects
them and shows them deference.46 Walter underlines the relevance of pietas, as
displayed by the protection of pudor, at the same level as clementia: he has Darius proclaim Alexander both as a dutiful enemy and a clement victor in one breath. His deference is an officium where his clemency is a beneficium; they both show that shows he knows his place.
The third kind of appropriate behaviour towards others, liberalitas (and consequently paupertas), is introduced at the beginning of book one, in the light of Alexander’s military enterprises.47 It is Aristotle who tells Alexander to endow his
troops lavishly; if not materially, then at least with love and riches of the mind, a beneficium from a commanding officer to his men.48 According to the program,
generosity and personal economy are crucial to virtus militaris: without a reward no soldiers and no campaigns; no wall will protect a miserly leader.49 Alexander’s
generosity was heralded by Curtius for the same reason50 and had become
proverbial in the High Middle Ages.51
Interestingly, Walter extends liberalitas and paupertas beyond Alexander’s men in two instances, as acts of pietas and clementia respectively: he has Alexander refuse to sell Darius’ mother and daughters, and lets him apply his own kind of Marshall Plan by making many donations to the temple of Jerusalem, after conquering the city peacefully, and make a lasting gift of peace to its citizens.52 In
showing generosity, Alexander acts out the theory of the sequence ira – clementia
43 Or higher in rank; pietas has the ethical connotation of doing the right thing to higher powers.
44 Alexandreis I, 178: ‘Nec desit pietas pudor et reverentia recti.’
45 In contrast, where Walter discusses Alexander’s pietas when it concerns equals, he condemns Alexander’s men attacking a group of defenseless women in book III, 225 and onward.
46 Alexandreis III, 234: ‘Maiestate tamen salua saluoque pudore...’
47 Alexandreis I, 1-2: ‘Gesta ducis Macedum totum digesta per orbem, quam large dispersit opes...’ I agree with Cary and Harich that this is no indication for further prominence throughout the narrative, although this is opposed by Sargent-Baur. See Cary, The medieval Alexander, 212; Harich, Alexander epicus, 217; Sargent-Baur, ‘Alexander and the Conte du Graal’, 13.
48 Alexandreis I, 146-154.
49 Alexandreis I, 163: ‘Non murus non arma ducem tutantur auarum.’
50 See for instance HAM III, i-1, 3: ‘Inter hæc Alexander, ad conducendum (…) militem Cleandro cum pecunia misso...’
51 See Cary, The medieval Alexander, 209.
52 Alexandreis IV, 135-137: ‘At nunc securus sub paupertatis amictu regnat Alexander. Regum me glorior esse, non mercatorem’; I, 552-554: ‘...multo ditavit munere templum. (…) indulto Marte beatæ urbis perpetuo donavit munere cives.’
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in practice, and in doing so the importance of clemency for virtus militaris and the success of Alexander’s military operations are stressed once again. It is safe to conclude that pietas and liberalitas, next to being virtues of their own that take the back seat to clementia and virtus militaris,53 do have an essential, channelling
function for the latter two: Alexander’s generosity and deference help embody his clemency, and thereby his military success. The triad clementia – pietas - liberalitas completes the package of appropriate behaviour.
All these virtues lead to gloria, the reward of good behaviour according to the program. Alexander’s name is to live on forever if he abides by Aristotle’s guidelines.54 In the narrative, Alexander shows that he is fully aware of glory being
the consequence of the merits of one’s life.55 It becomes the motive for his military
campaigns, the underlying reason of his virtues – he is in it only for the glory – and the cause of his biggest flaw, cupido habendi.56 In other words, gloria is connected
to the way in which Alexander fills in his role as an exemplary king in two ways, as the motive and as the reward for his behaviour.
Now this double connection between virtue and glory reflects something I mentioned earlier on, the classical-stoic idea of man’s relation to the divine, or doing what is appropriate within the natural order of things. If one behaves appropriately, i.e. perform the officium of virtue, one receives the beneficium of glory from the higher powers. And there we have it: as soon as Alexander’s cupido habendi gets the better of him and his superbia puts him outside the natural order of things, the interaction of virtue and glory must cease to exist and the motive gloria turns into gloria vana.57 A parallel between Alexander’s superbia and his
53 Cary, The medieval Alexander, 212: ‘Gautier is too occupied (…) to pay more attention to his liberality than merely to recognise it in passing.’ Harich, Alexander epicus, 217: ‘Fest steht aber, daß diese beiden virtutes im Charakterbild Alexanders vor anderen (wie die clementia und virtus militaris) wohl ein wenig zurückstehen.’
54 Alexandreis I, 182-183: ‘Si sic vixeris, eternum extendes in secula nomen.’ 55 Alexandreis VII, 358: ‘Si vitæ meritis gloria respondet famæ.’
56 The consequences of lack of virtus militaris, for instance, is a rex inglorius: II, 208-210 ‘...spoliis ululabit ademptis hostica barbaries, at rex inglorius exul nudus in hostili sine laude iacebit harena.’ Furthermore, Alexander concedes that glory suffices as his only reward: II, 484-485, ‘Prelia non spolium mecum discernite. Cedant premia preda meis, michi gloria sufficit una.’ And finally, his reaction to Aristotle’s speech is one that indicates his greed for power: I, 190, ‘Germinat intus amor belli regnique libido.’
57 Cicero and Seneca, who are the pre-eminent spokesmen for the idea, consider Alexander’s gloria as a motive to be gloria vana or propria gloria from the very beginning, a thought embraced by John of Salisbury putting forward Alexanders as a classical-pagan antitype for Christ. The editions used are Michael Winterbottom (ed.), Marci Tulli Ciceronis De officiis, Oxford: Clarendon, 1994; François Préchac and Manfred Rosenbach (eds.), Lucius Annæus Seneca, philosophische Geschriften 5: De clementia. De beneficiis = Über die Milde, über die Wohltaten, Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1989; Ioannis Sarisberiensis Policraticus, ed. Clement C.J. Webb (Oxford 1909). Cicero, De officiis I, 90-xxvi (Winterbottom 37): ‘Philippum quidem Macedonum regem rebus gestis et gloria superatum a filio, facilitate et humanitate video superiorem esse (…). Itaque alter semper magnus, alter sæpe turpissimus.’ Seneca, De beneficiis II, xvi (Préchac and Rosenbach 170): ‘Non quæro, inquit, quid te accipere deceat, sed quid me dare. (…) Animosa vox videtur et
30
being a non-Christian seems far-fetched to me;58 I would argue that it is more
important to recognise that the concept of gloria could function both at a classical level and at a contemporary level, and that the moment cupido habendi comes into the picture is the moment the balance between virtue and gloria is disturbed.
The next question is not if, but when this happens. One option might be in book eight, in the speech of the Scythian leaders.59 There we see an abrupt shift of
attention from virtue to vice, though there does not seem to be an immediate cause: Alexander’s campaign against the Scythians stemmed from his regular ira and he consequently treated them clemently.60 Yet the Scythians lay several
charges that indicate greed and lack of self-control at his feet,61 although earlier in
book eight Alexander is still portrayed as the guardian of temperantia.62 A clue as
to why they do this might be found in the fact that Alexander had stopped acting in accordance with the program on one account: he was not facilis oranti to the plea of the Scythians before subduing them, but this lack of response is not uncommon in mediaeval literature.63
The second warning against immoderateness is given by the Indian king Porus in book nine,64 but still there is no sign of Alexander’s virtue being in danger:
his ira turns into ira refrenata after hearing the king’s plea, and he treats Porus with clementia as well.65 The final warning is dealt further on in book nine by
Alexander’s own men, when they ask him to desist of further enterprises.66 It is
[cum] regia, cum sit stultissima!’ John of Salisbury, Policraticus, 722 C (Webb 247): ‘Multorum (…) fuit opinio (…) Alexander et Aristoteles a numinibus esse progenitos, eo quod in omnibus propriam quærebant gloriam’; ibid. 722 D (Webb 16-20): ‘Non et verus Dei Filius, Deus homo, propriam non quærebat gloriam in omnibus quæ gloriose fiunt ab eo, sed Patris.’
58 Christine Ratkowitsch, ‘Troja-Jerusalem-Babylon-Rom. Allgemeingültiges und Zeitkritik in der Alexandreis Walters von Châtillon’, Poetica 28 (1996), 100; Jan Cölln, ‘Der Heide als Vorbild für christliche Weltherrschaft’, in Jan Cölln, Susanna Friede, and Hartmut Wulfram (eds.), Alexanderdichtungen im Mittelalter. Kulturelle Selbstbestimmung im Kontext literarischer Beziehungen, Göttingen: Wallstein, 2000, 94.
59 Alexandreis VIII, 375-476.
60 Alexandreis Cap.viii. libri, 8: ‘...monitus non flectunt principis iram.’; VIII, 506-508, ‘Non magis arma ducis homines movere suoque subiecere iugo quam quod clementer agebat cum victis.’
61 Alexandreis VIII, 375-376, ‘Cupido si corpus haberis par animo...’; VIII, 425-426, ‘...ad pecudes nostras extendis auaras instabilisque manus’; VIII, 428-429, ‘Quid tibi diviciis opus est, que semper avaro esuriem pariunt?’; VIII, 431, ‘Sicque famem sacies, defectum copia nutrit.’
62 This is when he orders the richess of his spoiled troops to be burned in order to start the next campaign, a memorable act because it is one of temperantia that goes against the common liberalitas towards his men; Alexandreis VIII, 52-54.
63 Alexandreis VIII, 477-478: ‘Sic ait, at Macedo nichilominus agmine facta arma Scitis inferre parat.’ See also Cary, The medieval Alexander, 173.
64 Alexandreis IX, 315: ‘Proinde tui cursus frenum moderare.’ The entire speech is to be found at Alexandreis IX, 298-316.
65 Alexandreis IX, 319-320: ‘Ergo refrenata mutati pectoris ira, contra spem procerum curauit prodigus egrum...’
31
here that Alexander openly displays superbia for the first time: his glory exceeds the frontiers of time,67 he endeavours to see a different Nature.68 This, not the
Scythians’ speech, is the moment when the balance of virtue and gloria is disturbed permanently. Alexander’s virtues become irrelevant due to the unnatural desire that constitutes his superbia, he himself becomes a rex unutilis. The consequence is an inglorious death in book ten, leaving his men stranded and unprovided for in a strange country and leaving his realm without a successor.69
There is no gradual process of moral demise leading to Alexander’s death. However, Walter did use the three speeches as a tricolon crescens to announce the – inevitable – end. We find a cue to this in the aforementioned fact that according to the program, Alexander should have been – but was not – facilis oranti to those before him in all three instances.70 The fact that the Scythians and Porus are strong
opponents who, in accordance with the stoic principle, live in harmony with natura or the natural order of things, adds weight to their words to Alexander, who is about to start doing the opposite.71 Their mentioning of fortuna, the classical-stoic
equivalent of natura in accordance with which man is supposed to live, forshadows Alexander’s superbia: it embodies the divine boundary which they will not, but Alexander will cross.72 The fact that it is Alexander’s own men delivering the last
speech stresses the gravity of his mistake in not paying heed. superbia takes over, Alexander loses control over his fate, and it is a natural consequence that fate – read nature itself – turns against him.73
So where is the last virtue on the list, reverentia sapientis, in all of this? As
67 Alexandreis IX, 555: ‘Excedit eui mea gloria metas.’
68 Alexandreis IX, 569-570: ‘Antipodum penetrare sinus aliamque uidere Naturam accelero.’
69 Alexandreis IX, 517-519: ‘(…) Tua si tibi uilis ut nunc est uel cara minus, preciosa tuorum sit saltim tibi, Magne, salus.’ Alexander runs the risk of neglecting his duty to look after his people, a known problem for kings in the twelfth century; see Lafferty, Walter of Châtillon’s Alexandreis, 93-97.
70 The king is to confer with those of virtue and high moral standard, regardless of their rank; see Alexandreis I, 85 and I, 92-95: ‘Consultor procerum seruos contempne bilingues et nequam (…). Non (…) prohibet rationis calculus, ut non exaltare uelis siquos insignit honestas, quos morum sublimat apex licet ampla facultas et patriæ desit et gloria sanguinis alti.’ I, 85 can be read in two ways, depending on whether procerum is considered attributive to consultor or servos. The translations by Streckenbach (Heidelberg 1990) and Townsend (Philadelphia 1996) choose the latter option, but considering the caesura after procerum and the unlikely notion that a king would ask advice from servants, the former option seems more plausible to me. Also, the phrase construction is in line with that of I, 15: facilis oranti frange superbum.
71 About the Scythians, see VIII, 366-367: ‘...contentique cibis quos dat natura, beatam ambitione sacra nolunt corrumpere uitam.’ About Porus, see IX, 317-318: ‘...fortunæ turbine regem infractum uictumque animum uictoris habentem.’
72 Alexandreis VIII, 453-455, ‘...dum celeris Fortunæ munera nondum accusas, impone modum felicibus armis, ne rota forte tuos evertat versa labores.’ IX, 315-316, ‘Caduca sunt bona fortunæ stabilisque ignara favoris.’
73 Alexandreis X, 6-7: ‘Interea memori recolens Natura dolore principis obprobium mundo commune sibique…’
32
mentioned before, deference of the wise, i.e. Aristotle, enabled Alexander’s acting out of the other virtues. The program implicitly refers to reverentia sapientis in two ways: by its form – guidelines for good conduct set by a philosopher74 – and by
emphasising the importance of consilium.75 Explicit mention is made in book three,
where Alexander professes not to be able to kill a wise man, Zoroas, since he is useful to the world.76 Walter’s addition of reverentia sapientis to the range of
virtues, as well as this passage, were a novelty. One explanation offered is that the mediaeval poet was seeking recognition and reward from his employer, idealising antiquity where learning was stimulated by those in power,77 but although this is a
plausible explanation, it does not answer the question how this virtue fits the same ethical bill that determines Alexander’s other virtues. In my opinion the crux lies in the word sapiens, a charged term: it is charged because its classical-stoic connotation is that of a person who has acquired consciousness of his position within nature and therefore the ability to act appropriately. It is also charged because the notion of the rex sapiens, as we saw before, was highly current in Walter’s day.
The Scythians can serve as an example: their knowledge of the interaction between man and natura/fortuna gives them the consciousness of the cyclical nature of fate that underlies wisdom, a classical line of thought also functional with twelfth-century authors; in other words, they are wise.78 This, the fact that they are
sapientes, puts the weight of their speech in a new light: part of Alexander’s superbia lies in lack of reverentia sapientis and could have been prevented. To put it bluntly, this virtue comprises the entire program. Walter may not have called Alexander wise explicitly, but his earlier behaviour showed insight in nature and therefore wisdom: he listened to the wise, did the right thing by other people, and was therefore a rex sapiens, one that is useful to the world. Such wisdom stands in sharp contrast to the Scythians’ comparison of Alexander to an unwise man, should he choose to stop behaving in accordance with nature.79 The dice have been cast
for the trajectory that Alexander is to follow: sapiens will become stultus.
So there we have it: spurred on by reverentia sapientis and leading to gloria, the entire network of virtue and vice that constructs the king’s image and determines the run of the narrative is based on ethics that were both valid at a classical-stoic and at a mediaeval-Christian level. Furthermore, Walter preserved
74 One could argue this is reflected in book one: I, 81, ‘atque hec dicentem vigili bibit aure magistrum.’
75 See also note 70.
76 Alexandreis III, 176-178, ‘Numquam mea dextera sudet vel rubeat gladius cerebro tam multa scienti. Utilis es mundo. Quis te impulit error ad amnes tendere velle Stigos, ubi nulla scientia floret?’
77 Harich, Alexander epicus, 218
78 Lafferty, Walter of Châtillon’s Alexandreis, 162. This would also account for the passage about Zoroas, because he knew what nature had in store for him.
79 Alexandreis VIII, 394-395, ‘Stultus qui fructum cum suspicit arboris, altum non vult metiri.’ Walter uses the terms stultus/stultitia and superbus/superbia within the same semantic scope, as did Seneca; see note 57.
33
both main themes that were subject to these ethics and that were therefore universally usable: Alexander remains worthy of his fortune, as long as he abides by the program, and the moment he stops doing so is the moment he determines his own fall. Alexander’s relation to classical fortuna is no different than it is to Christian divina providentia,80 and it is Alexander, not fortuna itself, who’s in
control of events. His superbia goes beyond a mere pursuit of world domination:81
the latter cannot cause Alexander’s downfall, if there is no ethical connotation of his failing to do the right thing. The Scythians gave the kick-off for this at the end of their speech,82 book ten takes away any doubt about the matter: Alexander should
have been content with mortal honour,83 as opposed to the gloria vana he ended
up pursuing. Things cannot be more clear: Alexander’s superbia disrupted the natural order of things, the relation between man and the divine, and it is as comprehensive and negative a vice in the Alexandreis as it is in the Historiæ.
Aristotle’s program of virtues in general, and the addition of reverentia sapientis in particular, play a key role in updating the Alexander’s image as a king and leader for a twelfth-century audience. The program created a contemporary framework for Alexander’s characteristics; it enabled Walter to emphasise relevant and recognisable features for his audience and leave out less relevant ones.84 In
doing so, Walter intercepted any problems with the aforementioned ‘disantiquation’ of Alexander. The actual adaptation – or rather update, as the ethics covering the king’s characteristics in both texts were so closely related – of Alexander’s image was consequently achieved by testing these characteristics by the program. The testing was then used as an instrument to confirm the current value of the program’s tropological tenor: the superficial elaboration of Alexander’s characteristics is the consequence of their being subject to the program. The addition of the program and reverentia sapientis bear testimony to the trouble Walter went through in order to keep the universal validity of the ethics underlying his king’s image intact, as well as to provide an update. Or in a nutshell: he made sure Alexander was as much a classical-stoic as a mediaeval-Christian king.
ALEXANDER ISLANDICUS
The immense popularity of the Alexandreis reached Iceland and the rest of the Occident relatively quickly, and less than a century after it had been written, it was
80 Baynham, Alexander the Great, 118; Cary, The medieval Alexander, 81 (note 19). 81 Harich, Alexander epicus, 222.
82 Alexandreis VIII, 462-463: ‘Si similis nobis homo, te debes reminisci semper id esse quod es. Stultum est horum meminisse ex quibus ipse tui es oblitus.’
83 Alexandreis X, 351: ‘Sed si mortali contentus honore fuisset..’
84 For instance, audacia and temeritas are given considerable attention by Curtius; see Baynham, Alexander the Great, 118 and onward.
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adapted into the prose Alexanders saga (± 1260).85 The date immediately raises
questions. First of all, as the last in the series of the so-called Icelandic Antikenromane,86 it is affiliated in form with the tradition of the Icelanders’ and
kings’ sagas, but forms no direct part of it due to the non-Icelandic matter. Secondly, it deals with a highly popular subject in the mediaeval West – Alexander and ideal kingship – at the periphery of the environment that had worked out the matter at hand. And thirdly, it is the last work to appear in its era, the Sturlungaöld, on the eve of the collapse of the original Icelandic social-political structure.87 As
mentioned in the introduction, over forty years had passed during which some chieftains were able to increase their power and wealth, resulting in strife and battle and ultimately the take-over of power by the Norwegian crown. A work about ideal kingship in such a context of political instability, the saga raises expectations of adaptation for the local audience,88 especially where it concerns
the image of the king; Alexanders saga found itself at a literary and cultural, not to mention a historic crossroads. For all these reasons, and in my opinion not least because the saga does not concern Nordic matter,89 it may not be surprising that it
85 See note 4. For a general discussion of research concerning the dating of Alexanders saga, see David Ashurst and Francesco Vitti, ‘Alexander literature in Scandinavia’, in Zachary David Zuwiyya (ed.), Alexander literature in the Middle Ages (Brill's companions to the Christian tradition 29), Leiden: Brill, 2011, 315-322; Kirsten Wolf, ‘Gyðinga saga, Alexanders saga and bishop Brandr Jónsson’, Scandinavian Studies 60-3 (1988), 371-72. 86 For the four other Antikenromane and their dating, see Stefanie Würth, Der ‘Antikenroman’ in der isländischen Literatur des Mittelalters (Beiträge zur nordischen Philologie 26), Basel en Frankfurt: Helbing und Lichtenhain, 1998, 35-118.
87 I hesitate to use the term ‘republic’ or ‘commonwealth’ to signify Iceland’s social-political structure between 874 and 1262-1264. The term ‘commonwealth’ or ‘allsherjarríki’ used is a 19th-century invention to designate the mediaeval Icelandic state (see Chapter 4); the term ‘republic’ or ‘res publica’ is an 18th-century invention by bishop Finnur Jónsson used for the same purpose (see Chapter 3). Also, Finnur´s ‘republic’ only initially was related to the neutral res publica described by Arngrímur Jónsson in Crymogæa (1609), who neither used it specifically to denote the mediaeval Icelandic state nor used it in analogy of Jean Bodin´s description of the Roman republic, as Jensson claims (see Chapter 2). See also Gottskálk Þór Jensson, ‘The Latin of the North. Arngrímur Jónsson’s Crymogæa (1609) and the discovery of Icelandic as a classical language’, Renæssanceforum 5 (2008), 22: http://www.renaessanceforum.dk/5_2008/gj.pdf (accessed January 5th, 2018).
88 There has been mention of the fact that the tenor of the saga might have been changed, but without regarding the manner in which this happened; see Stefanie Würth, ‘Alexanders saga: literarische und kulturelle Adaptation einer lateinischen Vorlage’, in Susanne Kramarz-Bein (ed.), Hansische Literaturbeziehungen. Das Beispiel der Þíðreks saga (Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde 14), Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1996, 309-311.
89 One, if not the main, of the three features that make the Icelanders’ sagas unique is the Icelandic subject matter, as Hallberg and Clover have pointed out; for the kings’ sagas, we might add, this would be Nordic matter. This might account for the fact that the main academic focus in saga literature has been on Icelanders’ sagas, and to a lesser extent on kings’ sagas, as Andersson observed; it would also explain why other saga genres have received little notion. See Theodore M. Andersson, ‘King's sagas’, in Carol J. Clover and John Lindow (eds.), Old Norse-Icelandic Literature. A Critical Guide (Islandica 45), Toronto:
35 has received little attention so far.
Two of the extant manuscripts in the younger edition of AS mention Brandur Jónsson (± 1205/1212-1264) as the saga’s translator;90 the introduction
and colophon of a manuscript of the Gyðinga saga state that he translated both GS and AS at the request of Norwegian king Magnús Hákonarson.91 Brandur belonged
to the clan of the Svínfellingar, one of the most powerful clans on Iceland, and was bishop of Skálholt, abbot of Þykkvabær and bishop of Hólar between 1238 and 1264.92 According to Hákonar saga Hákonarson, Brandur was staying at the
Norwegian court in 1262, and since king Magnús and his father king Hákon were known for their literary patronage, the information seems plausible.93 However,
the research done by Hallberg, Sveinsson, Widding and Wolf has offered arguments both in favor of and against the validity of the statement in GS,94 and as
to whether Brandur was commissioned for both works, the statement itself is ambiguous.95 The most recent conclusion is that there are no convincing
University of Toronto Press, 2005 (19851) 198; Carol J. Clover, ‘Icelandic family sagas (Íslendingasögur)’, in Clover and Lindow (eds.), Old Norse-Icelandic Literature, 239; Peter Hallberg, The Icelandic saga (transl. Paul Schach), Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1962, 1.
90 Jónsson, Alexanders saga, 155: ‘Brandr byskup Ionsson er sneri þessi sogu or latinu ok inorrænu.’ - ‘Bishop Brandur Jónsson, who translated this story from Latin into Norse.’The mss. are AM 226 fol. and Stockholm 24.
91 See Kirsten Wolf (ed.), Gyðinga saga (Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi rit 42), Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar, 1995, 3: ‘Alexandr hinn riki ok hinn mikli kongr. þa er hann hafði sigrat ok undir sik lagt allar þiodir iheiminum sem fyrr var ritat’; ibid. 219: ‘Enn or latínu ok í norrænu sneri brandr prestr ions son. er siðan var byskup at holum. ok sua alexandro magno. eptir bodi virduligs herra. herra Magnusar kongs. sonar hakonar kongs gamla.’ The ms. is AM 226 fol.
92 For extensive information about Brandur Jónsson, see Finnur Jónsson, Den Oldnorske og Oldislandske Litteraturs Historie 2, Copenhagen: G.E.C. Gads Forlag, 1923, 861-62; Jan de Vries, Altnordische Literaturgeschichte (Grundriss der germanischen Philologie 16), Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1967 (1941-19421), 194-96; Wolf, Gyðinga saga, lxxxiii-lxxxvii; Tryggvi Þórhallsson, ‘Brandur Jónsson biskup á Hólum’, Skírnir 97 (1923), 1-22.
93 Marina Mundt (ed.), Hákonar saga Hákonarson etter Sth. 8 fol., AM 325 VIII,4o og AM
304,4o, (Norrøne tekster 2), Oslo: Forlagsentralen 1977) 192: ‘þa kom af íslandi branddur
aboti ionsson (…) brandur aboti var med konginum vm iolin ok voro konganner alluel til hans.’ For literary patronage by the Norwegian crown and for connections between prominent Icelanders during the age of the Sturlungs and the Norwegian crown in general, and Brandur Jónsson’s in particular, see Fridrik Paasche and Anne Holtsmark, Noregs og Islands litteratur inntil utgangen av middelalderen (Norsk litteraturhistorie 1), Oslo: Aschehoug, 1957 (19241), 484; Sveinsson, The age of the Sturlungs, 12-23.
94 Widding and Hallberg argue against, Sveinsson and Wolf argue in favour; see Einar Ó. Sveinsson, ‘Athugasemdir um Alexanders sögu og Gyðinga sögu’, Skírnir 135 (1961), 237-247; Kirsten Wolf, ‘Gyðinga saga, Alexanders saga’, 372-399; Peter Hallberg, ‘Några språkdrag i Alexanders saga og Gyðinga saga med en utblick på Stjórn’, in Einar G. Pe tursson and Jo nas Kristja nsson (eds.), Sjötíu ritgerðir helgaðar Jakobi Benediktssyni 20. júlí 1977 vol. 1 (Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi rit 12), Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar, 1977, 234-250; Ole Widding, ‘Það finnur hver sem um er hugað’, Skírnir 134 (1960), 61-73.
36
arguments to reject a common translator for both works. It is certainly not impossible that this was Brandur Jónsson, but with the current state of research, which is based on the statement in AM 226 fol. and on the consequent comparison of AS and GS, no other direct or indirect evidence of his involvement and of a royal commission is found. Nevertheless, considering the subject matter, the saga’s placement in time, the provenance of extant manuscripts and the saga’s reception into the twentieth century, the general consensus remains that both translator and audience were Icelandic.96 What is important to keep in mind is that there are at
least four circumstances supporting this thesis that will have contributed to the realisation of the Alexanders saga on Iceland: the development of Icelandic lay culture in the thirteenth century, a tradition of one hundred years of literature written in the vernacular, the existence of a literary form of Iceland’s own that could be released on foreign material, and a tradition of writing about – be it Norwegian – kings.97 These must have enabled, or at least facilitated, the
adaptation of the Alexandreis.
And then the poetic epic was transformed into a prose saga. The translator made general emendations to the narrative, such as explanatory additions and cuts in superfluous information, where he saw fit or where differences in language structure compelled him to do so, and kept generic observations and moralistic comments that come close to sententiæ by Walter intact whilst stating the source;98
meanwhile, he followed the main thread of the narrative closely, which reflected the linear modus dicendi of the sagas and which enabled him to cast the epic in the mold of a saga.99 Changes considered necessary for the understanding of the ideas
in the Alexandreis – the summit of mediaeval kingship – fall into a different category, one of statements containing essentially different information.100 If the
translator gave Aristotle’s program and its elaboration in the narrative the same key function as Walter, any such changes are to be found there. The opening of Aristotle’s speech immediately raises expectations of significant change: where
96 Würth for one observes that the translator seemingly did not expect extensive linguistic and geographic knowledge from his audience, and therefore finds the intended audience more likely to have been Icelandic. See Würth, ‘Alexanders saga: literarische und kulturelle Adaptation’, 313.
97 For these developments, see Andersson, ‘King's sagas’, 197-238; Clover, ‘Icelandic family sagas (Íslendingasögur)’, 239-315; Hallberg, The Icelandic saga, 35-70 and 142-147; Kurt Schier, Sagaliteratur, Stuttgart: Metzler, 1970, 1-9; Würth, Der ‘Antikenroman’, 187 and onward.; Gabrielle Turville-Petre, Origins of Icelandic literature, Oxford: Clarendon, 1953, 142-253.
98 Alexandreis II, 533-535: ‘(…) proch gloria fallax imperii, proch quanta patent ludibria sortis humanæ!’ – AS II, p. 37 (521-523): ‘Vm þann atburð ræðir sva meistare Galterus. Ho ho. bleckileg er þessa heíms hamingia oc opt syniz þat hvessv vollt hon er.’
99 For an extensive inventory of general emendations in style and narrative content, see Würth, Der ‘Antikenroman’, 107-117.
100 Kees de Graaf, Jacques Tersteeg, and Marie-Christine van der Sman, Alexander de Grote in de Spiegel historiael. Een onderzoek naar de vertaaltechniek van Jacob van Maerlant (Tekst en tijd 6), Nijmegen: Alfa, 1983, 102; Wolf, ‘Gyðinga saga, Alexanders saga’, 382; Würth, Der ‘Antikenroman’, 107-108.
37
Walter’s Aristotle advised Alexander to become a man and take up arms, the saga’s Aristotle tells him to adorn himself with wisdom.101 The former points in the
direction of virtus militaris, the latter rather in that of reverentia sapientis. Subsequently though, the program shows hardly any differences with the original: the four worldly royal virtues are treated in the same order, albeit shortened for narrative economy or extended for purposes of clarification as mentioned above. It is not until the end that we encounter two more possibly significant differences: that justice needs to be accompanied by clemency,102 and that Alexander will have
to consult writings regularly.103 These three changes provide an entrance for
examining the consequences of the program for the narrative and the specific derivatives of Alexander’s characteristics.
The treatment of the first specific virtue, virtus militaris, takes up an equal amount of space in the program in the saga as it does in the original, and the ideal is the same: the king needs to be a battle initiator, a commanding officer and an example to his men.104 The Icelandic Alexander proves that he is up to the test.105
The framework for the action is set and the guidelines for what should follow military action are clear: clementia to the deserving, ira to the undeserving.106 The
translator recognises the legitimacy of ira – reiði as a response to superbia – drambsemi and adopts the connection of clementia to the positive ira refrenata in the program,107 to emphasise Alexander’s refraining from anger and showing
clemency to those conquered instead both indirectly108 and directly,109 in the
broadest sense of the word and in a manner known in Icelandic literature, namely by using Alexander’s facial expression to express his state of mind,110 in the
101 Alexandreis I , 82 : ‘Indue mente uirum, Macedo puer, arma capesce’ versus AS I, p. 4 (l. 14-15): ‘þa pryddu þic fyrst með raðspekinne. en tak siðan til vapna þinna eptir fyst þinne.’ 102 Alexandreis I, 178: ‘nec desit pietas, pudor et reverentia recti…’ versus AS I, p. 7 (l. 16-18): ‘Eigi scal þo rettløtit eitt saman. þviat þar við scal tempra miscunnena.’
103 Alexandreis I, 179: ‘diuinos rimare apices’ versus AS I, p. 7 (l. 18): ‘optlega scalltu ranzaka ritnengar.’
104 AS I, pp. 5-6 (l. 12-30, l. 1-11).
105 Alexandreis II, 433: ‘hostibus expositus ante omnia signa suorum cornipedem uexans (…) choruscat (…) armipotens Macedo.’ – AS II, pp. 33-34 (l. 32-3): ‘Framme firir ollom merkiom var einn ungr maðr a heste þeim er Bucifal heitir ecki dęlligr bleyðimonnom undir brún at lita. þat var sialfr Alexander macedo.’
106 Alexandreis I, 115: ‘Parce humili, facilis oranti frange superbum.’ – AS I, p. 5 (l. 12-15): ‘Þat røð ec þer segir Aristoteles. at þu ser miukr oc linr litillatum. auðsottr oc goðr bæna þurptugom. en harðr oc úeirinn drambsaumom.’
107 Alexandreis I, 181: ‘Vindictam differ donec pertranseat ira.’ – AS I, p. 7 (l. 22-23): ‘refsingina scalltu eigi fyr lata fram koma. helldr en af þer gengr reiðen.’
108 Alexandreis IX, 319: ‘Ergo refrenata mutati pectoris ira....’ – AS IX, p. 138 (l. 23): ‘nu gerir Alexander í mote þvi er flestir etloðo...’
109 Alexandreis IV, 84-85: ‘...quanto clementior hoste hostis es.’ – AS IV, p. 59 (l. 4-6): ‘Bleikt andlit oc ryggleg augo syna þat at þu ert miklo milldare uvinr. en hermanna natura se til.’ 110 This is a common occurrence in the Icelanders’ sagas: the expression of the human face provides information on the condition of the subject’s mind; see Kirsten Wolf, ‘Somatic semiotics. Emotion and the human face in the sagas and þættir of Icelanders’, Traditio 69 (2016), 125-145.
38 narrative.
The translator seems to have struggled a little with keeping allegorical Clementia in book four separate from the king’s everyday clementia in the narrative: her importance within the realm of the goddess Victoria is moved to that of kings.111 Nevertheless, he does try to hang on to the allegory by giving Clementia
the active role of showing compassion to many, instead of just teaching others to do so. Some of the narrative economy in the remainder of the passage, and possibly elsewhere, plus the fact that the translator does not put this digression clearly in connection with the main thread of the story, may be due to a slight inability to handle the classical allegory that for the course of the narrative he could not omit. Still, the translator is on top of all that Walter has offered in the sequence ira – clementia. Moreover, he is critical. A good example is the one instance where ira appears as a negative, as an uncalled-for response of Alexander’s that was not prompted by any act of superbia.112 Not only is Walter mentioned as the source of
information, the translator also observes the fact that Walter did not clarify under which circumstances Alexander killed the three men.113 It is a returning
observation by the translator: that Walter is merely testing Alexander’s actions by the program, not by the situation.114
This does not change the fact that the objective and importance of clemency over anger are unaltered and equally essential: clemency is a beneficium that keeps the reign intact,115 and the narrative repeats this message faithfully.116 We can
safely say that clementia remains Alexander’s most significant trait; so far, there is no visible influence of changes in the program. But what about doing the right thing to the other two target groups, those equal in rank and Alexander’s troops? pietas manifests itself integrally by Alexander’s showing pudor and pudicitia in his
111 Alexandreis IV, 420-421: ‘Assidet hiis stabilitque deæ Clementia regnum sola docens miseris misereri et parcere uictis.’ – AS IV, p. 69 (l. 20-22): ‘Clementia er oc íþeira samsęte er mioc remmer riki konunganna. þviat hon er goð af griðum oc miscunnar morgom.’ 112 See note 39.
113 Alexandreis IX, 7-8 ‘et enim testatur eorum finis amicicias regum non esse perhennes.’ – AS IX, p. 129 (l. 31-34): ‘Iþeire ferð gerez þat til tiðenda at vinir konungsens lataz nockorir oc af hans volldom eptir þvi sem meistare Galterus visar til. en eigi kveðr hann scyrt á með hveriom atburðum þat varð…’
114 In other words, the translator lets it transpire that Alexander's violent actions cannot be judged properly unless more were known about their context. See Kim P. Middel, Alexanders saga. Bewerking of bevestiging. MA thesis, University of Groningen 2006, 37. 115 Alexandreis I, 342: ‘Instabile regnum est, quod non clementia firmat.’ – AS I, p. 13 (l. 10-12): ‘Hugsa sva fyrir þer at ustaðoct verðr þat riki er litla miscunn hefir með ser.’
116 Alexandreis IV, 62: ‘primum, queso, michi regnum stabilite meisque. Quod michi si tolli iam prefinistis (…) regnum Asiæ me post hic tam pius hostis habeto, tam clemens victor.’ –
AS IV, p. 58 (l. 5-6): ‘þess bið ec yðr fyrst at þer gevet mer at hallda rike mino. oc þeim ollom er mer þiona. En ef (…) ec skyla lata rike mitt (…) þa vil ec þess biðia at sva milldr vvinr oc miskunsamr sigrvegare take rike eptir mec sem Alexander er.’ Alexander’s being a miskunsamr sigrvegare holds the same implication of maintaining stability in the realm, even though the first part of Darius’ prayer – ‘at þer gevet mer at hallda mine riko’ – is slightly different than in the Alexandreis.
