An Interview with Faye Turner

by Ernest Dempsey

Who sired Alexander the Great? What conspiracies were underway when the wife of Philip of Macedonia was pregnant with a child whose birth, as a son, would let Philip continue to rule his land? Who was the sole witness to the paternity of one of the greatest leaders of earth? Faye Turner’s novel Traces: The Birth of Alexander the Great (Ki Eea Key Press, 2006) ventures to reconstruct the history of Alexander’s birth by lacing together the events that preceded the great Hellenic leader’s birth. In this insightful interview, Faye Turner talks about her novel.

Ernest Dempsey: Faye, please give us a brief account of your background in education and writing?

Faye Turner: In 1949 at age 16 in a small town in the panhandle of Florida, I graduated from high school. I did what most girls did. I took typing courses so I would be able to support myself. My first job immediately after graduation was as legal secretary for a firm of accountants and attorneys. I worked there three years. Beyond that, my education, especially in history, has been through individual research and travel.

E.D.: What sparked interest in writing Traces?

F.T.: The character called me. I began searching for him about fifteen years ago, making several false starts before settling on his voice. After I found him, I gave him the reins and typed what he said, weaving his story into his place and time from accounts I found in philosophy, religion, geography, geology, climatology, costume, foods, medicine and medicinal plants.

In the beginning I didn’t know who Daneion was nor that he was in any way associated with Alexander the Great of Macedon. If the character comes through as shy and uncertain, that is who he was when he began to speak. He gained confidence through association with Olympias, the mother of Alexander, and, as fortune would have it, he became a key figure in her life as well as (in future books) in Alexander's. As the story progressed, I learned that Wallis, lost to history, was known to the world by several names. Discovering these people in ancient texts has been a peak experience for me. It is an intuitive leap that these people are actually all one man.

E.D.: How laborious has your legwork been for creating this novel?

F.T.: My husband and I toured Greece for two weeks in the mid 1990s, visiting the museums and seeing the birth place of Alexander. Most important to me was getting a feel for Grecian sun and water. To research ancient medicines I planted medicinal herbs, made tinctures and experimented with their use. They work, sometimes better than pharmaceutics. We are rediscovering many of the ‘miracle’ plants that were used in Daneion’s day. I did not do extensive work into foods and costumes. The Greeks dressed and ate simply. Philosophy and religion have always been important to me. I just continued my normal research.

E.D.: What gave you the confidence to narrate your story in first person, especially the 'I' of a man?

F.T.: As I said, Daneion, known as Wallis to Olympias, spoke to me in creative thought. I told his story as well as I could. I am an old lady. I am not overwhelmed by differences in sex. Narrating in first person point of view (as opposed to omnipotent) sacrifices the convenience of moving a story forward quickly in favor of drawing the reader into the character’s reality, giving the reader a feeling of actually being there, seeing the events and hearing the dialog. Staying within first person was occasionally constricting. I broke through fences by including a few one-page stream-of-consciousness relations by major characters.

E.D.: Did you have any pains with scribing an English account of the ancient Greek world?

F.T.: Oh my yes. It is a constant struggle. Not only must I beware of anachronisms, I must remember that my readers do not speak ancient Greek. Compromising on words and terms that will be understood by a modern, mostly English-reading public, I sacrificed authenticity. Take, for instance: The word ‘taxi’ is authentic ancient Greek for a hired conveyance. I couldn’t use it because it would have sounded anachronistic.

E.D.: How much of the book is fiction and what part is history?

F.T.: Numbers. Everyone wants numbers. I no longer know what is fiction and what is fact. To tell the truth, I think much of authentic history is guesswork if not outright fiction. Most of it was written hundreds of years beyond the fact. After doing my homework on the era, reasoning through the events that are said to have occurred, considering time limitations and influences from regions not immediately covered in classical Greek texts, I believe that history happened as I wrote it. I have included invented characters to further the story, though I have been diligent in keeping to accounts in which ancient historians agree. Of course, dedicated historians and students of Alexandrian history will balk at my claim.

E.D.: Is there any historical evidence of the narrator’s seizures which were inherited by the child?

F.T.: Though it is a frequent speculation, it has not been proved that Alexander had seizures. If he did, it was not discussed. Epilepsy, “the sacred disease,” is spoken of by Hippocrates, of whom Daneion/Wallis is a student, follower and teacher, writing some of the surviving works attributed to Hippocrates himself, an account of which I hope to bring out in future books. The narrator himself is not stricken by seizures, though he believes himself to carry the curse. As a knowing physician, the family incidences prevent him from careless liaisons.

E.D.: So what’s the story behind the bracelet that appears in your novel?

F.T.: Olympias’ bracelet, taken to be a mark of rank as a high priestess of the secret organization of women that moderns know as Maenads, is recorded history. There is the story that Alexander saw a bracelet similar to the one worn by Olympias’ on the arm of Barsine, his first concubine. He took it off her arm and threw it across the room. Various reasons for his act are given by Alexander biographers. I will give my version when I get to that point, though I am laying groundwork for it now.

E.D.: It is interesting to note that Alexander is named before his birth while Daneion’s nephew is not named even after he is born. What was naming like back then?

F.T.: So glad you asked this question! A formal naming ceremony took place after a child had been examined by a priest or physician, declared acceptable and allowed to live, usually at about eleven days. At ceremonies, a father acknowledged the child as his own and gave it a name, usually for some distinguished ancestor. As the child grew and demonstrated unique characteristics, it was sometimes nicknamed accordingly. Boys were named by both their given name and that of their fathers’. Girls were known as ‘sister of’ or ‘mother of’ some male member of their family. Wallis’s nephew was born with a deformity, a club foot. Except for Wallis’ intervention, the child would have been killed, or, as most often happened, left out for exposure to the elements and animals. As for the name of the son of Philip, Alexander was foreseen by Keltic priests, some who had access to knowledge of past and future.

E.D.: Why would you not reveal the precise time of the events of the story?

F.T.: This is a limitation of narrating in first person point of view. I cannot break to some officious time-keeper narrator to tell the reader where nor when Wallis is speaking. Consider this: If Wallis mentioned when he was living, he would have said something like this. ‘Alexander was born in the month of Lous in the year of the 106th Olympiad,” gibberish to most readers, forcing them to hunt up references. However, Wallis would not have said this because it did not suit the style of the story. As readers continue they understand that Wallis does not intend that his story ever be heard by any other. And, after all, he knows when it is. A hint is given that Wallis does write his story when he tells about visiting the poet, Kasio, and Kasio gives him his scrolls and advises him to write. Wallis thinks, yes, he will.

Beyond that, time references would have had to be given in the opening pages of the first book. Alexander, upon whom any time schedule would have needed to be based, had not yet appeared. I could have mentioned the name of the archon of Athens, but there you go, more research by the reader, slowing down the progress of the story.

E.D.: What is the moral side of Traces?

F.T.: Wallis was a very constricted moralist, as shown in his harsh judgment of Philip in his Battle of the Lakes behavior when he sent fighters out in wagons to slay Bardylis’s men who were–under flag of treaty–out to recover their wounded. Wallis’s journey toward tolerance is the moral.

E.D.: Have you received any responses from historians?

F.T.: Historians have been exceptionally kind to me, both in sharing their knowledge and in acknowledging the extent of my research. I post on Ancient/Classical History in About.com and on Alexandriaeschate. Also I have formed friendships with historians via e-mail. One that I value highly is from Walter Gourlay, Professor Emeritus of History, Michigan State University, noted on the back of Before the Dawn of Alexander.

E.D.: Do you see further motivation in extending your research to the history of Alexander or other leading figures of Greek civilization?

F.T.: Wallis’s story continues. I expect to complete a third book in this series, now underway. Further information may be found on my website. I would enjoy visiting with any interested readers.