The Virtues of War, by Steven Pressfield

Overview: A novel about Alexander the Great and his conquests across Asia Minor, the Holy Land, Egypt, the Persian Empire and India. It is told in first person, as Alexander tells his story to an Afghani scribe right before the final crossing of the Indus river to face an Indian king (Porus) whom he held in the highest of esteem. The tale covers the life of Alexander, really, from his upbringing under his father Philip, King of Macedonia, to his death at the age of 32.

The book starts off a bit slow, and for me required a push to continue. But once it hit the description of the first big battle (Philip's last major battle and the first that the young Lion Alexander led troops in.), I was hooked. There was something about the way Alexander relayed the details of the battle ahead of time, describing exactly what and whom each side was bringing to the battle field, and then how he developed the strategy for defeating the foe, usually in the face of staggerily unbalanced numbers (in the enemy's favor), and then reading how the battles played out to victory for Alexander... truly great reading. So the middle of the book was a joy for me to read.

However, the book once again dragged to a slog with the final quarter of the book, once Alexander and his army had conquered - and settled into - Babylon. The Persian King Darius was the sole reason the troops fought. Once they had seen to the toppling of the Persian Empire, and the centuries-old revenge that provided for the Greeks and Macedonians, the army wanted to take their plunder and go home. But Alexander had far loftier goals that remained undone. He wanted to reach the ocean at the end of the world, past India, far beyond where any Greek King had been before... a goal that was ultimately too ambitious, even for Alexander. The dramatic change in terrain and opponents proved too much for his troops, and they ultimately convinced Alexander to abandon his ambitions and let them return home to enjoy the rest of their lives with their families, many having been away from home for almost a decade.

The book slogs at the end because the warfare shifts into guerrilla fighting in Afghanistan, and sitting in soggy encampments on one side of the Indus River, waiting for the opportunity to cross the mile-wide river to continue the fight in India. Gone were the marvelous recountings of the clashing armies on grand battlefields, and instead come tales of small bands hunting other small bands, tracking through mountains, burning villages, trying to flush out rebels. Yawn. Couldn't be helped, really. It's not like Pressfield could rewrite history... he skillfully crafted a well-written first-person account of the conquests of one of the world's greatest kings...

Ultimately, I'm glad I read it. It was not a very long book, had some terrific dialog, with a wonderfully rich vocabulary (though I still don't know what 'perfidy' means...), and will now take a place of honor on my Shelf of Books I'm Glad I Have Read (rather than getting squirreled away on a bottom shelf somewhere). Not nearly as good as his Gates of Fire, but neither is anything else I have read.

Summary: Well worth reading. 4/5

Sample Monologue from The Virtues of War:

SETUP: Alexander the Great has been leading his army of 45,000 (or so) east, driving back the Persians and trying to draw out Darius, the Persian King, to head-to-head battle. When the day of battle finally arrives, Alexander is victorious, though his forces were outnumbered by more than 5-to-1, in every facet (light infantry, heavy infantry, ranged, cavalry, etc.). He simply out-strategized the Persian King, and came extremely close to capturing and killing him. But Darius escapes. Alexander gives chase with a small unit until dark, and then abandons chase and returns to the battlefield - to a scene that horrifies him. His own troops, looting and pillaging the Persian camp and running amok, taking spoils... he grabs a passing officer, who then has the officers round up all the troops and he addresses them...

    Everything I have loved and labored for is folly.

    This day will be acclaimed a great victory! Indeed it was. Until you fouled and polluted it! Corps sergeant major, array the troops in march order. Have I not forbidden plunder? By Zeus, is that the first standing order of this army or not? Are you soldiers? I called you my brothers. Together, I believed, no force on earth could stand against us. Yet we have met that force this day. It is our own wicked and ungovernable hearts!

    When I saw you fight today, my countrymen, I saw men I would lead with pride against the phalanxes of hell. I saw comrades by whose side I would lay down my life with joy. To count myself among your corps, I felt, would be renown eternal and fame everlasting. Victory! Before today, I believed it to be everything. But you have shown me my error.

    You have disgraced the most glorious triumph in the history of Western arms. You have brought shame upon yourselves and upon this corps. But most of all, you have dishonored me. For a man hearing of this day will not say, 'This rape was performed by Timon,' or 'That outrage was the work of Axiochus.' No, he will say these acts were committed by men serving under Alexander. Your misdeeds have blackened my name, for you are me, and I am you.

    Do we march for plunder, brothers? Is gold our aim, like merchants? By Zeus, I will cut my own throat if you tell me you believe that. Is it enough to rout the foe, to prove ourselves the greater brutes? Then build my pyre. I will kindle it myself before yielding to such want of imagination and such deficit of desire.

    Fame imperishable and glory that will never die - that is what we march for! To light that flame that death itself cannot quench. That I will achieve, and by the sword of Almighty Zeus, you will work it with me, every one of you!

    Brothers, I will suffer your crimes this day out of my love for you only. But hear me now and sear these words into your hearts: that man who disgraces this army again, I will not chastise as I do this night, as a father punishes his son with care and concern for their character, but will banish that man from me and from this company forever.

    Now get out of my sight, the lot of you, except officers and generals. To you, I have more to say.

    Ultimate responsibility for this debacle lies with me. I have not impressed sufficiently upon you, my officers, the code of chivalry by which I expect you and this army to conduct yourselves. Therefore I shall take nothing from the spoils. That portion that would have been mine will be distributed to our wounded and mutilated comrades and donated to raise memorials for our fallen.

I loved it when I first read it, I loved it when I re-read it, and I've loved it every time since then.