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Gareth Cliff hosts his best ever guest listImagine you could have a dinner party: great location, great food, great atmosphere. None of that would matter, though, because this dinner party would be unlike any other. The difference would be in the guest list. To keep it intimate, let us say that – including you – you could have any 10 people, alive or dead, as company. If there is a heaven for people who, like me, love history, then this is the heaven about which we fantasise.
In my dreams, I try to picture Genghis Khan devouring a leg of lamb with his hands while telling me about the invasion of Khwarezmia. I see John F. Kennedy laughing when someone at the table brings up Marilyn Monroe. I can almost hear the furious religious debate between Muhammad and Bertrand Russell. I could conjure up a haughty Elizabeth I taking umbrage at Karl Marx’s explanation of the power of the working classes. I allow myself to imagine every detail of Socrates’ facial expression and tone while he lectures, knowing when I wake up that it is all nonsense.
I do not think there is any other kind of nonsense that I wish more I could make true. Perhaps this is why I love period-piece movies and historical re-enactments: they feed my brain with raw materials from which to construct detailed dreams about the characters from the past of whom I am so in awe.
I hope you do not mind my self-indulgence; but while you think about your list, here is mine.
To be fair, I do not think men and women will be equally represented around the dinner table. HIStory rather than HERstory has made this a biased exercise, and women have never been given the credit or attention they deserve by the men who chronicle the human story.
I am likely to be partial to the parts of history that fascinate me most, so the list will not be representative nor politically correct. Neither would I waste too much time with those who are now alive; indeed, I am sure you would choose more or less the same people I might if the living were the only ones on the shortlist: Nelson Mandela, Kim Jong-il, Barack Obama, Queen Elizabeth II, Billy Connolly, John Cleese, Angelina Jolie, Gore Vidal and Larry David, among others.
I will stick to the dead. I will invite them by their full honorifics, since some would never accept the invitation if it were not in the correct form. Here, then, are my nine guests:
1 Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, Imperator, Pater Patriae, Tribunicia Potestas, Pontifex Maximus, Princeps (Emperor of Rome, 63 BC–14 AD)
Founder of Western civilisation. I would seat him to my immediate right. There are so many things we owe to Ancient Rome, but no single person presided over a more interesting stretch of human time, nor did as much to sculpt the world in which we now live than the first emperor of Rome.
I cannot remember how old I was, but when I first saw a replica of the Augustus of Prima Porta statue, I knew I was looking at something majestic. There is something about the pose, his expression, the kind of serenity you only ever see when someone knows who they are and exactly what they are there to do. I have been curious about Roman history ever since; it probably even predates my love of music.
Augustus reformed law, imposed the Pax Romana – the longest sustained span of peace in recorded history – and seeded European culture. He gave us Virgil, and was contemporaneous with Julius Caesar, Pompey Magnus, Cicero, Cleopatra and even Jesus (though he would not have met the latter until this dinner).
I would love to hear Augustus speak of the senate, the death of Antony and Cleopatra, the ancient world, and his licentious daughter Julia.
He would probably wear a humble linen toga and look solemn. I think Winston Churchill would make him smile. He would be abstemious – a few olives and some bread would suffice.
He once said of Rome that he had “inherited it brick and left it marble”, but his last words to his wife, Livia, tell us how aware he was of his place in the world. One of the few rulers to die peacefully in his bed, he turned to her and said: “Did I play my part well? Then applaud as I exit.”
2 President Thomas Jefferson of the United States (1743–1826)
Enlightenment president-philosopher. The principal author of the Declaration of Independence would sit between Augustus and Hatshepsut.
Jefferson was responsible for so much of what we refer to as our freedom in modern society. He was a champion of representative democracy, of the separation of church and state, and of the condition of man. He could tell us about Washington, Franklin, Hamilton, Adams and the other founding fathers of the United States, with wit and without reverence.
Jefferson was a child of the Enlightenment in every sense of the word, and a politician only when he had to be. John Quincy Adams said of him: “Mr Jefferson tells large stories… you never can be an hour in this man’s company without something of the marvellous, like his stories.”
Jefferson apparently learnt Spanish during a 17-day voyage, and would no doubt be able to keep everyone at the table entertained, even if Churchill and I were the only ones who could know what America was.
He would be dressed like an unpretentious gentleman of the 18th century, probably in dull colours and with his hair tied up neatly.
He probably would not like hamburgers, French fries or doughnuts.
In 1823, Alexander Hugh Holmes Stuart wrote, “I have never met any one who presided at his own table, with the same playful grace and urbanity, blended with perfect dignity.” To leave Jefferson off the list would be dreadful.
3 Queen Hatshepsut, Pharaoh of Egypt (1508–1458 BC)
First woman to rule over men. Without a doubt, this woman would be entirely at ease in male company. Indeed, she had to play the role of a man throughout her life, and would have thought it right that she were placed between the most open-minded men at the table.
Like Augustus, she managed to usher in an era of peace after success as a warrior early in her reign, and established trade relationships with surrounding civilisations. She could help us understand the great kingdom of Egypt – things archaeologists could never tell us.
Though only the second-oldest guest at the table, she would be the only one who would not know a thing about any of the others, so there would be no sense of awe from her; she would probably think us all inferior and retrograde.
She would be the most magnificently dressed: resplendent in gold and jewels, with fine fabrics; and on her head the towering and bewildering united crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt – serpent and vulture – glaring at us from her forehead. Her dark, lined eyes would probably look right through you.
I would, with great humility, ask her about the gods, the stone temples, the cities and palaces of the first urban settlements in Africa; I would love to know how she kept all the men in check even though she was a woman; and I would be fascinated to hear what an ancient Egyptian queen may think of our world today. She may condescend to answer.
4 Jesus Christ of Nazareth
(7–2 BC to AD 30–36)
Founder of the world’s most popular religion. Whether he actually existed or not, the figure of Jesus has cast long shadows of influence and power. If he were just a man, a very special man he must have been. Being a cynic, perhaps in his presence even I may experience something of the beatific and divine, which would go some way to explaining his role in history; but to imagine him discussing truth and rights with Jefferson and Churchill may make my head explode.
Jesus would probably wear some simple tunic or robe, made of wool or linen, and his trademark sandals. I do not know what he would eat, but I would provide fish just in case.
I would like to know what he may make of the religions of the world as they are now: of the good and bad they have done, sometimes in his name. I would present him with a Bible and ask how accurately it reproduces his life and deeds.
I wonder what Jesus may say to Augustus about the way Rome was governing Palestine – as an ordinary citizen today may moan to the government about services or taxes.
Any kind of truth, any insight into this man, may help all humanity with some of our most pressing questions. Plus, he could bring the bread and wine – and we would not run out.
5 Og (Early Stone Age)
Discoverer of fire. Since our oldest guest would probably be inarticulate, we would have him there simply to observe him.
Is there a person on earth who has not wondered what our earliest ancestors might have looked like? Og, since he made fire, may be smarter than the rest, and we will give him the benefit of the doubt.
If it were possible for us to understand him, can you imagine how much we could learn about the slow, steady, progress of human evolution and development? Og could demonstrate, firsthand, the simplest skills and basic intelligence that likely propelled this branch of primates to eventually rule over the earth.
All this wonder and astonishment aside, I would put him at the farthest end of the table from myself. Og would probably be naked; but if he did wear anything, it would be very smelly and dirty. Jesus would not judge him and Alexander would be used to battle and travel.
6 His Highness King Alexander III, King of Macedon, Hegemon of the Hellenic League, Shahanshah of Persia, Pharaoh of Egypt and Lord of Asia (356–323 BC)
Greatest warrior in history. Alexander died at age 32. I am already older than that. By that time, he had conquered the known ancient world, never lost a battle, founded cities, brought down his greatest enemies and even been declared a god in his own lifetime. The rest of us may be considered underachievers.
Naturally, he and Jesus (who also died in his early 30s) could squabble over their divinity while monitoring Og’s behaviour.
In all sincerity, I think I would be completely star-struck by the great Alexander. All biographical detail about him suggests he was dynamic, energetic, wild and driven like few humans before or since. Physically imposing, doubtless intelligent and certainly aware of his own power, I think he may make even Augustus quietly respectful.
He would be wearing the breastplate and armour of Macedon, with his leonine blond hair shining in the light.
What really happened at the Battle of Gaugamela? Were you murdered with poison? Where is your tomb? Did you love your friend Hephaestion more than you loved your wife, Roxana? Why did you let them burn Persepolis?
Alexander would be able to make vivid the mythology and spectacle of a larger-than-life history. As an individual, few can have better stories to tell of Greece, Egypt, Persia, India and Bactria. I doubt any around the table would get a word in edgeways.
7 Sir Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill, Prime Minister of Great Britain (1874–1965)
Politician, man of letters, raconteur. I will not go into too detailed a biography of the man more often quoted than any other, but I will say that I would be happiest to meet him. The gold standard of Britishness, the robust and bold maker of the free world and United Nations after World War 2, eloquent, funny, self-assured and occasionally belligerent, Churchill would no doubt consume the most liquor and have nearly the most to say.
He would wear a frock coat and tie, and peer out from those soft, small eyes at the wonder of the assembly. I think, being a historian, he may derive as much joy from the occasion as I would. He would stay the longest. Among kings, artists and warriors, he would set everyone at ease.
Churchill’s sense of humour may make for a change from all the egotistical, political and serious philosophical conversation, and I am sure all the guests would welcome it. I would like to know what he thinks of the world since he departed.
8 Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci (1452–1519)
Renaissance man. There was seemingly nothing Leonardo could not do. He was a master painter, sculptor, architect, musician, scientist, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, cartographer, botanist and writer – that is merely the stuff about which we know! When people say genius, they mean Leonardo.
I doubt he would be austere and gloomy company; he would probably be flashy and convivial. He would likely wear some High Renaissance fashion and be as interested as he would be interesting. Come to think of it, we could even get him to paint our supper.
I am more than convinced that Jefferson, across the table from him, would be his main partner in conversation, but I am sure he would regale us with unique observations about the past and present. No man can claim to have been the master of more disciplines, skills or arts than he, and his mighty brain and creativity would ratchet the whole affair up into the rarified air of an audience with pure, undiluted talent.
Giorgio Vasari said of him: “Many men and women are born with remarkable talents; but occasionally, in a way that transcends nature, a single person is marvellously endowed by Heaven with beauty, grace and talent in such abundance that he leaves other men far behind.”
9 You
Sure, I could have invited some other fabled, magnificent or terrifying historical being, but I would need someone to share this with, right? I would need a witness and someone with whom I could replay it, over and over in my head. If you have read this far, you are the final guest – and you would sit on my left and bask in the glory of some of the most phenomenal people to have graced the earth with their presence.
If there were any real genies in lamps, this dinner party would be my only wish.
Edited extract from “Gareth Cliff on Everything” by Gareth Cliff (Jonathan Ball Publishers, R185). Available at bookshops nationwide.
