Customer Reviews

The Persian Boy

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Robert Lipsyte, who wrote some wonderful novels himself, said in a column that his father gave him this book to read one weekend. After putting it off, he finally gave in and was hooked from the first sentence. Mary Renault casts a spell from the first in "The Persian Boy", the pivot of her Alexandriad.

Bagoas is born into an aristocratic family; the turmoil following the death of King Ochos claims his father, mother and sisters, and he himself is castrated and sold at the age of 10. The twin horrors are followed in time by another; Bagoas is himself sold by his master to other men as a prostitute. Procured for King Darius, Bagoas's lot changes only slightly; instead of being sold to many men, he is kept by one man, a King he holds in awe for his station, and not out of personal admiration.

Darius has made the mistake of underestimating the young Macedonian King Alexander, who at 20 undertakes the reconquest of Greek cities in Asia Minor. But Alexander closes in on the Persian Empire, and Darius suffers one defeat after another until his own warlords lose faith in him. When a coup sees Darius taken prisoner, Bagoas escapes with only his life. In time he is rescued by one of those warlords, who decides to beg Alexander for clemency. Who does he bring to sweeten the plea? Bagoas--as a gift.

Alexander is presented by Renault as a man capable of more than mortal feats who is still reassuringly human--more than that, he needs love desperately, from the hero-worship of the soldiers who follow him to the intimate devotion of his lover Hephaistion. Bagoas has never known love at all, only use. When Macedonian King and Persian courtesan meet, the inevitable happens--and this is where the enchantment begins.

Renault's mastery is impeccable. With a few well-chosen words, she conjures the images of the great Persian palaces--the ruins at Persepolis, Susa, Ekbatana, and Babylon; she recreates the travels of the Macedonian army so well that any reader who picks up her companion book "The Nature of Alexander" will look at the pictures and exclaim, "I know this! This is--" and name the very scene. But it is her characters that truly live. Bagoas is keenly intelligent, charming, courtly, sarcastic, prey to jealousy and possessiveness when it comes to his lover; his growing maturity merely adds to the pain he experiences as the affair and Alexander's conquests progress. And Alexander is much more accessible here than in "Fire From Heaven," which is a wonderful book but presents Alexander as all light and no fire. Here we get to see Alexander as preening boy, heroic warrior, pragmatic king, and devoted lover. It is a marvelous love story whether or not it actually happened.

But the emotional payoffs of the affair are balanced by hideous tragedies, none more affecting than the death of Hephaistion. Bagoas' quiet desperation to keep Alexander with the sane and living is agonizing with the knowledge that Alexander did not survive his lover by more than three months. Renault foreshadows without laying it on too thick, but it's worth noting that the portents of Alexander's death were recorded by historians, and the ancients paid close attention to that sort of thing. The final quarter of the book is grim, with only a few moments of light, and the most poignant moment is when Bagoas, having kept watch over Alexander even after his death, finally gives way to the Egyptian priests who come to embalm the Macedonian.

It isn't all romance and grief. Bagoas is, after all, only sixteen when the affair starts; he's prey to insecurity about his place in Alexander's heart, and his two antagonists are Hephaistion, Alexander's lifelong love, and Roxane, the legendary beauty who becomes Alexander's wife. With Hephaistion, Bagoas indulges in the sort of reverie that anyone who's ever had a romantic rival can identify with (stopping short of cutting him into little pieces and feeding him to the dogs). Roxane, on the other hand, earns Bagoas' hatred for good reason, and she is presented as everything Hephaistion isn't: clinging, vindictive, and devouring. Bagoas wryly notes that Alexander has, like most men, married a woman like his mother, and it's asides like this from him that make the story such an indulgent treat to read.

Like other reviewers, I will say that if you despise homosexuality and homosexuals, don't pick up the book. But if you can put aside prejudices and read for the sheer pleasure of encountering excellence in writing and losing yourself in another place and time, "The Persian Boy" is still in print.

"The Persian Boy" is the second book in Mary Renault's Alexander trilogy and it's by far the best of the three, probably because Renault did a total shift in narrative and style and continued the story in the first person. When Renault writes in the first person, something magical happens; we're so totally caught up in the action that we're inside the book, not only watching but feeling it come alive.

Renault realizes that Alexander underwent a fundamental transformation on becoming Great King after defeating Darius at Gaugamela; he was no longer the king of Macedon but king of most of the known world, most of whose inhabitants were considered by Macedonians to be "barbarians", and she chose to tell her story through the eyes of one of them, the Persian eunuch Bagoas, an actual historical character of whom next to nothing is known except that he had been sold to Darius in childhood as a slave and after Darius's final defeat at Gaugamela was passed on to Alexander. He must have made the most of his position as the historian Aristobulos wrote about Bagoas six years afterwards, when he was evidently still in Alexander's good graces, and had probably seen and heard a great deal.

Renault had to fabricate almost all of Bagoas's own story; we see him as the beautiful child of a Persian nobleman who was betrayed and executed; sold into slavery and castrated to preserve his exquisite good looks, and then presented to Darius, standing by his king and seeing him betrayed and murdered by his own men after his defeat by Alexander, and then being passed on to this strange young Macedonian who looked more like a barbarian than the Persians looked to the Macedonians. Renault's choice of a Persian narrator was inspired; who else could have told from a sympathetic viewpoint about Alexander's growing identification with his conquered subjects, and his insistence in finding excellence in people of all races and nationalities, when most Macedonians considered Persians as little more than subhuman? Bagoas's love for Alexander doesn't blind him to Alexander's faults; he gives us Alexander warts and all; his overwhelming ego and conceit which must have driven his best friends up the wall; his hot temper and intemperance which led him to kill a trusted officer in a drunken rage, and the lack of moderation which made him a candle burning at both ends and ultimately burned him out. And although Bagoas must have hated Hephaistion in real life and the feeling was probably mutual, he can still realize that Hephaistion's death removed a vital prop in Alexander's life and left him not only bereft, but with a vital part of himself gone without which he could no longer live.

"The Persian Boy" brings us the ancient world from Asia Minor to India and makes it so incredibly alive that we hate to close the book and return, reluctantly, to the ho-hum present. It's a glowing, vivid work of art.

Judy Lind

Mary Renault initially captured my attention with Fire From Heaven, the first of the Alexander novels, and gave new life to this revered warrior and hero. But with The Persian Boy, as told through the eyes of Bagoas, a slave boy who becomes confidant, advisor, and lover to Alexander, she humanizes this historical figure even further, and gives him attributes that the history books neglect, those of a man. She probes his mind, as witnessed by the eyes of adoring Bagoas, who first reveres Alexander as his master, and then dotes upon him as lover. Bagoas remains faithful to Alexander through months of separation during the conquest of Greece, and stands by his side despite treacherous efforts to discredit and dethrone his King, through Alexander's 'relationship' with his boyhood companion Hephaistion, and his 'marriage of convenience' to Roxane.

This novel, while it appealed to me on a romantic level, also exemplifies the nature of love, be it between man and woman, or man and man, as a fevered, passionate longing for another, a sense of loyalty to them and to your relationship with them, during hard months of separation, and a desire to do anything to please and/or comfort them. However, the book also accurately recreates Alexander's journey of seige across Greece, and the hardships he and his followers endured. Readers would be hard pressed to find a more descriptive and honest look at Alexander the Great as a flesh and blood creature, and not just the conquering hero of many bloody battles which history books offer us.

One of the reviewers said, "excellent portrayal of two human souls". I fully agree.

Alexander is interpreted differently today from historian to historian; I must confess that after reading Fire from Heaven and the Persian Boy, I'm forever captured. I've tried to read less adoring interpretations, only to get angry at the authors. This is not to say that Mrs Renault's view is the only legitimate one, but it is so powerful and convincing and human that it is hard to set aside.

As always, the tale she tells rings true and has meaning. Bagoas isn't only a Watson, here to tell us about Sherlock Holmes. He is a deeply human character in his own light. For a hundred pages, we see Alexander only from what he hears about him, while he is enslaved and used as plaything, then comes to the service of Darius. It has been a long time since I have felt so strongly for a character's misery, and felt so happy when he found love, and as always, Mrs Renault does it beautifully, with a word here and there, never vulgar, never too close, always with that deep sense of decency all her major characters posess.

I found this one vastly better than Fire of Heaven, by the way. As to the historical "truth" behind it all, it is well researched, and if you don't like her portrayal of Alexander's character (or if it rings too good to be true), you still get a wonderful book and a great story, and are treated to an excellent work that stands far above other historical fiction.

Ahh, The Persian Boy!

As most have stated: this book is sublime. Many more scholarly reviewers have discussed themes that bring this story up from the level of mere historical novel. We are treated to a story about fear, hatred, violence, revenge, honor, courage, devotion. But - most clearly - undiluted love. A marvel. And, its great fun too! A real page-turner. Where is the blockbuster Hollywood treatment?

I chuckle at the references from my fellow readers about the homosexual content and how "it is not too offensive" to the gentle reader. Some people can be so silly.

Surrounded by rape and pillage - this story of homosexual love is a joy to behold. Pity modern society could not be more like our so-called primative forebearers in this regard!

(This paperback version is small enough to carry to the beach and on the bus yet beautiful enough to give as a gift.)

Not being a classicist at the time, I was a little discouraged when I first picked up _The Persian Boy_. Forty pages in, and I couldn't keep names like Nabarzanes, Orxines, and Oxathres straight in my mind. However, Renault's thoughtful, unpretentious prose and her ability to evoke that *perfect* image soon had me - to use a tired but appropriate term - hooked. Bagoas' narrative is infused with devotion and youthful foolishness, recounting Alexander's triumphs and blunders with a refreshing endearment. This book has occasionally come under fire from Alexander-buffs, who accuse it of being a rather romanticized account of the tale. But of *course* it's romanticized! What one must bear in mind, though, is that this is a romanticization that takes care not to transgress the facts. Renault has done her research, and her blend of humanity and historical detail resurrect - through the eyes of lovesick Bagoas - an Alexander both winsome and sad. This book is a humble gem, and one that leaves the reader with a comforting message, that yes, it's all right to believe in heroes.

Deeply moving, and unfailingly historically accurate, this story of the young castrated lover of Alexander the Great is surprisingly educational in today's world because it talks about East and West. Through the eyes of "the Persian boy," we come to understand a gulf between mindsets that has not been bridged even to the present time. But you don't think about these things when you're reading Mary Renault's smooth and beautiful prose. You're swept up in the story and above all else, in her fully realized characters. Alexander the Great and his youthful brashness become completely real to you. You imbibe the history. That's how Mary Renault wanted it and she was marvelously accomplished at her task. You take away with you an emotional experience of this incalculably important period of time -- when Alexander through sheer will and conviction brought Hellenism, that is Greek philosophy and ideas to foreign territories all along the Mediterranean coast laying the ground for a way of life which we are still to this day enjoying -- and your comprehension of the sequence of events is forever deepened. Renault's The Last of the Wine brings to life ancient Athens in the same rich and unforgettable manner. Both are sad novels in a way, but sadness with Renault can be very sweet and very rewarding. Highly recommended. The best seller lists of today seldom include such literate and substantial and enduring novels.

Though a romantic vision of Alexander, it is well put together and closer to historical truth than most. Having read many of the ancient sources on Alexander, including Arrian, Plutarch, Curtius, it is evident that the negative accounts come from Curtius who shows himself to be unreliable as a historian, embellishing and fabricating wherever it pleases him (its bias shows In the Footsteps..., which is sadly not very reliably researched). Renault follows mostly Arrian who used Ptolemy I as his main source (and who was a member of Alexander's expedition). Alexander was insatiable and self-destructive in his quest for glory, competing with as his rival, the hero Achilles, and therein lies the human interest in his life's story. His passion for conquest should not be judged by today's moral standards. It is absurd to assume that Alexander if he were alive today would go about conquering nations - just as preposterous as it is to think that we would be prostrating ourselves in front of him, believing he was the son of Zeus. His conscience was shaped by Aristotle among others, who though one of the greatest thinkers of his day, was also subject to the era's ideological shortcomings. My only criticism of Renault would be that the role of Bagoas, should be credited to Hephaistion, but as a fictional device it works well to propagate the Persian side of things.

Alexander the Great, one of the world's most admired and respected military men and Great King of Persia, died at age 33. In the prime of youth, he conquered much of the then-known world, receiving homage and love from his subjects from India to Greece because of his justice and mercy, and respect and admiration from his men because of his military genius and remarkable ability to lead men of all nations and tribes. The Persian Boy tells his story, and that of the ancient world through the eyes of Bagoas, a boy captured and made a slave and eunuch at age 10. Bagoas's legendary beauty set him apart for advancement, and his intelligence and integrity made him a fitting partner for such a man as Alexander. Male relationships were accepted as natural in Alexander's times and his long connection with Bagoas is historical. Through Bagoas's eyes, we come to know Alexander and his world, to appreciate the sensual nature of one of history's greatest warriers. That man could be at once loving and ferocious, gentle and vengeful and be loved and admired by thousands hints at a crack in modern sensibilities that smacks of prejudice and fear. This is an interesting story both in the historical and narrative sense, It conjures images of opulence and glory unknown in modern times and modern warfare. Jewels and gold, spices and incense were prized gifts and treasures both for mortals and the Immortals. In a time when Greek gods, Mithra, and the Hindu trinity ruled the earth, religion was moral and ethical and structured by rules of omens and ritual sacrifice. The ancient world offers much to modern society in terms of moral and ethical thought and behavior. Perhaps it is time to look back instead of forward to learn the meaning of existence.

"The Persian Boy" is a journey back in time, with it Mary Renault succeeds in both capturing the essence of a character and guiding us through the immense campaigns of Alexander The Great. Like "Fire From Heaven," it is a brilliant mix of drama and history, written with a detail so vivid that there is no doubt that Renault is a serious historian who loves the subjects she writes about and has studied all aspects of the history and culture. Renault was always bold and with a wealth of character to choose from who travelled with Alexander she chose one of the most controversial and sexually charged, Bagoas the eunuch. Little is known of this gift offered to Alexander as part of a surrender and after the death of the Macedonian conqueror he disappears from the pages of history, what is recorded is that he was a favorite of Alexander's, and as was the custom at the time, a lover as well. Since the character is so murky, Renault has free will to invent as she pleases with his life and in the novel he comes from a well respected family destroyed by Persian traitors who sell Bagoas into slavery, castrate him and soon use him as an onject of pleasure. "Fire From Heaven" was a Greek novel, set almost entirely in the world of Macedon and Greece, but with "The Persian Boy" Renault offers us the oriental point of view. She captures the culture with perfection, displaying the lands and people that are now Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan with vivid details about the dress, customs, religion and habits. Once Bagoas is given to Alexander (after fleeing with the Great King Darius who is killed by his own commanders) the novel really becomes epic as Bagoas follows Alexander from Bactria to India and Babylon. It is a tale of humility and devotion as Bagoas realizes he is being treated as a human being for the first time in his life by this young conqueror who is more humble and understanding than any before or since. Renault's historical novels have always shined because they capture the humanity behind the events, behind the iconic figures and towering events. The world is changed by individuals with their own personal histories and Renault captures how hates, loves, passions, devotions and obsessions have changed the course of history. Some have accused Renault of deifying Alexander, but his faults also appear and he comes across as a brilliant thinker and commander who may also have slipped and fallen but always with a drive to discover. Classicists and Alexander students will enjoy how Renault includes famous passages from history with gusto and style such as when Alexander falls in love with the Bactrian princess Roxane one night as she performs a ritual dance after the Macedonians capture the Sogdian Rock. There are moments of passive thought and moments of great intensity and action, with drama that burns off the page. Alexander's travels are described with epic spirit as Bagoas too discovers the harsh rains of India and the horrors of crossing the desert to Babylon. "The Persian Boy" is one of the great historical novels, highly recommended because it has a real heart at its center. This is not a novel by someone who felt like writing about Alexander, this is a novel by someone who is an expert on the subject and has done her research with incredible detail. Her dramatic speculation is always smart and plausible, and goes with the evidence we have. This is a masterpiece, a timeless work of literature for the ages.