Though “epic” may be the technically correct term (in that
it is Homeric in its scope), the word does not do justice to Gore Vidal’s
spectacular and monumental novel Creation. Set primarily in ancient Persia during the
reigns of Darius, Xerxes, and Artaxerxes, Creation
combines the scale and vision of Homer’s Odyssey
with the intimacy of Pearl S. Buck’s The
Good Earth. The narrative is
presented as the autobiography of Cyrus Spitama, half-Persian, half-Greek, grandson
of the prophet Zoroaster and bosom friend of the Crown Prince and future Great
King, Xerxes. It spans his long life,
from his birth in a Zoroastrian cult, through his entry into the Persian court,
his ambassadorships to India, China, and Greece, and finally his death at
seventy-five.
Classical literature often has a distinctly foreign feel,
but Vidal makes the ancient world seem real and near as few authors have done. He writes not as a modern man looking at this
2500-year-old culture through a modern lens, but as a Persian noble for whom
this setting was modern. Cyrus is unburdened by the baggage of Western
cultural norms and Vidal’s knowledge of future history, giving the reader the
distinct and rare sensation of exploring the ancient world as a native, rather
than a tourist.
During his travels, Cyrus meets figures such as the Buddha, Confucius,
Lao Tsu, and Socrates (he doesn’t find the latter particularly impressive); he
visits the hanging gardens of Babylon, where he watches the teenaged Xerxes
seduce an adolescent temple priestess; he is married to a 12-year-old Indian
princess; and he is kidnapped and sold into slavery in China. His journey spans nearly the entirety of the
known world, and he reflects on each adventure with a mix of dry humor, the
detachment that comes with the passing of decades, and the nostalgia of old
age.
Creation is no
light undertaking (my paperback copy is nearly 600 pages of seemingly
microscopic font), yet as I neared its end, I found myself dreading the
inevitable farewell to Cyrus and his devoted stenographer Democritus. Like the end of a long and full vacation in a
foreign country, I wished I had time to see just one more sight, meet just one
more character. Barring that, I plan to
dive deeper into Vidal’s body of work; if his other novels are half as engaging
as Creation, it will be time well
spent.
