u/deniz_aydiner

Alexander the Great (Alexandre le Grand) reached far beyond the confines of historical biography, emerging as one of the most versatile and ubiquitous figures in medieval Western European literature. The legendary narratives that coalesced around him after his death preserved more than just his military victories; they captured a life reframed by supernatural encounters, explorations of uncharted lands, famed intellect, open-handed generosity, and an unyielding drive to test the boundaries of human knowledge.

Much of this literary tradition flows from the Alexander Romance attributed to Pseudo-Callisthenes, compiled in the early centuries of the Common Era. By Late Antiquity and the early Middle Ages, this narrative material entered Western Europe through key Latin adaptations: Julius Valerius’s Res Gestae Alexandri Macedonis, its ninth-century Epitome, and the widely circulated eleventh-century Historia de Preliis.

From the twelfth century onward, Alexander took on a distinctly contemporary resonance in Western vernaculars. No longer treated merely as an ancient ruler from the distant past, he was absorbed into the medieval framework of chivalry, courtly culture, political legitimacy, princely pedagogy, and Christian moralizing. As the historical Macedonian faded, a literary archetype took his place—one onto which medieval Europe could project its own ideals, anxieties, and political ambitions.

To what extent can a historical character be detached from its context, era, and origins? Alexander the Great, a Macedonian general who lived in the 4th century BCE, has been portrayed in many different ways throughout his life. He is seen, in particular, as a figure who has been reimagined in European literature.

The work you see above is known as Anthologia Palatina 3.987. 3.987.1 and 3.987.2 are commentary notes added next to this paragraph.

Ἕκτορ, Ἀρήιον αἷμα, κατὰ χθονὸς εἴ που ἀκούεις, χαῖρε, καὶ ἄμπνευσον βαιὸν ὑπὲρ πατρίδος. Ἴλιον οἰκεῖται κλεινὴ πόλις, ἄνδρας ἔχουσα σοῦ μὲν ἀφαυροτέρους, ἀλλ᾽ ἔτ᾽ ἀρηιφίχους:

Μυρμιδόνες δ᾽ ἀπόλοντο. παρίστασο, καὶ λέγ᾽ Ἀχιλλεῖ Θεσσαλίην κεῖσθαι πᾶσαν ὑπ᾽ Αἰνεάδαις. (3.987)

Ἀδριανοῦ (?)· εἰς τὸν Ἕκτορα· οἱ δὲ Γερμανικοῦ. (3.987.1)

Ἡσύχιος δὲ εἰς Τιβέριον τὸν Καίσαρα ἀναφέρει αὐτό (3.987.2)

Here is the continuation of the article I wrote in the first part. Alexander the Great is one of the historical figures who has captured my attention the most, and I can say that I am by no means alone in this interest. Despite his immense popularity, studies in political history or Hellenistic history unfortunately tend to push the evolution of Alexander’s personality across different cultures into the background. Of course, I’m not saying there is no research on this topic, but there is very little. I have attempted to generalize and summarize a topic I also explored in my doctoral dissertation in two parts. Naturally, like all generalizations, it has its shortcomings. Still, I think it serves as a good introduction.

If you’re curious about Alexander, I invite you to visit my Substack page. As social scientists, we’re known for never really keeping quiet. I’d say this page consists of the posts where I just can’t stop talking about the field.

I came across a beautifully illustrated Vatican manuscript of Virgil’s Aeneid and ended up writing a short piece about it. The images show the meeting between King Latinus and the Trojans, and how that first encounter eventually turns into war between Aeneas and Turnus. The episode comes mainly from Books 7–11, including the prophecy about Lavinia, Juno sending Allecto to stir up Amata and Turnus, and the final duel between Aeneas and Turnus. I was especially interested in how the story ends with the Trojans and Latins being brought together rather than one simply replacing the other, which becomes part of the tradition behind the origins of Rome. I also added a few thoughts on why medieval manuscripts so often illustrated scenes from the texts they preserved.

We have very little information about this book. The author has drawn various runes and epitaphs. Were these things he actually saw? Or were they simply designs? We really don’t know.

https://www.manuscripta.se/ms/101947

Alexander the Great has been part of literary and historical memory for more than twenty-three centuries. His story travelled across an extraordinary geographical and linguistic range, eventually appearing in more than thirty-five languages. Yet the Alexander who survived this long journey was not always the same Alexander who conquered the Persian Empire. In different periods and places, he became a king, a philosopher, a prophet, a defender of the faithful, and even a figure connected with the end of the world. The historical Alexander provided the starting point, but later traditions repeatedly changed what could be done with his story.

It is common knowledge that Ancient Egypt had a “closed” economy during the Ptolemaic Dynasty. But what exactly is a closed economy? In fact, it is an extension of a chain of intense economic causes. Unlike in most ancient regions, the abundance of gold and scarcity of silver in Egypt form the basis of this “closed economy.” Although I lack in-depth economic knowledge, ancient societies assigned value to money based on its scarcity or abundance. In Egypt, numerous measures were taken to ensure that the scarcity of silver did not disrupt this system.

However, as far as we know, this was also used as a method of making a profit during the Ptolemaic period. There were exchange offices at the entrances to cities that operated on the same principle as today’s “change offices.” The government earned a certain percentage of profit from these converted amounts. In a sense, the government profited from international trade just as much as many local merchants did. In a sense, it was like a tax imposed on international trade. While the world’s attention is focused on the tit-for-tat tax wars between the United States and Canada, this situation also caught my attention.

Coins featuring Alexander the Great/Heracles are among the most popular coins of the Hellenistic period. They were minted countless times throughout nearly the entire Alexander the Great empire. Due to their large number and wide distribution, we can observe different variations of the same motif. In particular, there are multiple styles even within Anatolia/Asia Minor.

But I have to say that what strikes me as the strangest are the motifs on the Carian coins. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s my homeland that they caught my attention so much, but I was quite curious as to why the depictions of Alexander are so plump. After doing a bit of research, I came across some interesting interpretations. Still, I noticed that the motifs on some coins aren’t just plump—they’re so different that they could even be described as “shapeless.”

What do you think?

İskender tarihte çok konuşulan birisi olduğu için tarihin birçok anında defalarca resmedilmis. Ama her tarih anlatışı gibi her tablo da ayrı bir anı ayrı hayal gücüyle incelemiş.

One thing that has always interested me about the Byzantine Empire is the name itself.

The people we call “Byzantines” called themselves Romans. Yet by the late Byzantine period, writers like Pletho were increasingly speaking of Hellenes, while Western scholars of the sixteenth century were beginning to organise these Roman histories under a new category.

I tried to trace how that happened, and how “Byzantium” gradually became the name we use today.

“v(iva) v(ivis). Petilia, M(arci) f(ilia),

Tertia sibi et

M(arco) Petilio patri.

ζῶσα Πετιλία Τερτία

ἑαυτῇ καὶ Μάρκῳ

Πετιλίῳ πατρί.”

“Petilia Tertia, while alive, [dedicated this] to herself and to her father, Marcus Petilius.”