Interesting Juxtaposition

Last night I finished reading Saint Patrick of Ireland, by Philip Freeman, and this evening I finished Alexander the Great: Journey to the End of the Earth, by Norman F. Cantor. It wasn't a deliberate attempt at comparison, just the order in which my requested library materials became available. I stumbled across Saint Patrick while actually browsing for the book on Alexander, which wasn't available at the library, and given that it's March, I thought it would be nice to do some further reading. And Alexander is so often mentioned in discussions regarding ancient history, but I recently realized that in spite, or perhaps because, of a very poorly made documentary I watched, I knew nothing about this man designated as "Great."

What struck me most about the Saint Patrick book was that the author really didn't say much about Patrick. By writing a book about him, he presumes to know quite a bit, but most of the book was phrased along the lines of "Patrick might have done _____ during _____ (insert a 50-year range)." It's nice to be honest and approach a subject cautiously, but if halfway through your research you realize you don't have enough substance to write a decent book with a reasonable amount of factual information, do your future readers a favor and give up for something more worthwhile. Don't just fill in the gaps with cheap shots at other historians much more entertaining than yourself. Yes, I am referring to the ever-popular Cahill, who write How the Irish Saved Civilization, because even though the premise of his book was a little off and the Irish didn't exactly "save civilization," it was such an absorbing read, and full of some great trivia. However, the one thing that came across very strong in Freeman's book was the translation of Patrick's Letters and Confession. His fervent zeal for the souls he was converting is refreshing, considering that the Christian church at the time was generally financially driven. For a man to seek an official position in the church not for temporal security or tax exemptions, but as the means of bringing the Gospel of Jesus Christ as he knew it to the nation that enslaved him in his youth, well, it's touching and inspiring. His love for the people he converted was so evident in his letters.

Alexander's biography was much more interesting, because the author stuck to facts throughout, only delving into speculation in the final chapter, in which he pondered the numerous ways Alexander had a lasting impact on the world—a legitimate activity, considering Alexander's empire, and six of the seven cities he formed and named after himself, collapsed almost immediately after his death at the young age of thirty-three. What was really cool is that I also just finished watching a six-part documentary on the history of India, and Alexander's conquest effectually ended there.

I'm not so sure about all this reading of ancient history. It's pretty horrible to contemplate that even the "Golden Age" of Classicism celebrated brutality and abuse in numerous forms, or at the least turned a blind eye on appalling social injustice. Men's rights were regularly trampled on, not to mention the fact that women and children had no recognizable rights at all. And they had some seriously gross rituals and customs. I might say something to the effect that it makes me grateful I live in a modern age, which would be unequivocally true, but it also gives me reason to ponder human nature and why societies end up with horrible traditions like the ones I've been reading. No specific answers yet.