THE NATURE, STYLE, AND AESTHETICS or PAPADHIAMANDIAN PROSE Dissertation for the Degree of Ph. D. MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY DAVID ROBERT WEINBERG 1977 “It“ IIIIIIII'IIIIIIIIIIIIIlilII T'II‘IIS 31293 015821139 LIBRARY Michigan State University This is to certify that the thesis entitled THE NATURE, STYLE, AND AESTHETICS OF PAPADHIAMAND IAN PROSE presented by 1) AI/ I 1) R0 BERT (/KjL:/N 35-186— has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for B' 0' degree in CW?) W Mam Wall “(/0an Major professor Date 1 A“? 77 0—7 639 ‘ a .- “~~ .. n ’ ' '.‘..‘ .., ‘ .-“c.:-.'= ~‘ . . ‘ “(3‘ .2 "“,: v- ' “"-\ ...._ ‘ .. 0 u.._.‘ ‘ ~.'\ .- "‘ .- .. ‘3 ‘zv-...' , “-4. 7‘ . “~.} _~ ~ my“ . s ‘A ‘5- -u-‘. i David Robert Weinberg between January and June 1903 is used as the authority for both a complete translation into English (included in an Appendix) and the analysis of the michte. (A photoc0py of this first printing is also included in an Appendix and has been numbered in Stephanus fashion for verification of the data.) The method of analysis is based upon critical distinctions between the katharevousa and the demotic as dictated by grammar and usage, especially distinctions of orthography, morphology, and lexical choice as they appear in the narrative and descriptive passages of The Murderess. Specifically, the elements separated out of the text into the katharevousa and the demotic are as follows: Phonology and Orthography A. Neuter nouns in -- L ; -- LOV B. Consonant combinations C. Orthographic variations A. Subjunctive aorist third person plurals B. Augment: temporal and syllabic C. Participles in -- uévog Vocabulary The analysis indicates that the character of Papadhiamandis' michte is the result of random selection; not deliberate choice. While we find, for example, in some areas a proportionately greater number of demotic elements in the nominative and accusative cases; the prOportions often reverse themselves in the genitive case. How- ever, though the introduction of demotic elements is in some areas overwhelming, the michté maintains a katharevousian character, for - .- I -c . n 4... . 0.; .‘_u'~‘,.;" 0-» ..-a...". . _ . “Q- O~--.4 ¢_ i C > .- ~ »~.. 5 ,._~‘ . . .,.o-.. ‘V : I—.u.g‘ ‘1‘. \- . . I-n... ..a- .- . c h-- .‘ .c: k .- '7' '"' 3-..-“ 0‘. .H': ‘3':- s 3 ‘ 'I‘VNQ- a ' I“"-l‘.‘ I—n "‘ .. d an- "“ u~ ‘- fi‘n .° ‘ ~ “43.. . . n p "m ~.. -. b. 3 \ ..‘. . Q ‘w. ‘ “.3 35”.“ . 5' “. ‘HI ,‘I ‘ . u“ .4 ‘de Q. ~‘ 3. I " Q‘ m .1. “‘\.:AP ‘ MS a-- .1“ R David Robert Weinberg the demotic terms are many times formalized by the addition of archaic endings or other formalizing devices. Thus Papadhiamandis' style, it appears, was unaffected by the controversies over the Greek "Language Question" which at the time tended to polarize styles into "pure" katharevousa and "pure" demotic; or, at the very least, depolarize them to the extent that a michte was the result of careful compromise or tentative conciliation. But the Papadhiamandian michte-—the result of random selection——is no such compromise. The aesthetics of such a michte--Papadhiamandis' michtE--is also explored in this study. Appraising the aesthetics is based upon the relation of language to purpose. For example, an examination is made of the synthesis in the narration of the physical environment and the emotional state of the heroine. Finally, one additional study (included in an Appendix) offers evidence of Stylistic Characterization in The Murderess. It is included to show Papadhiamandis as "pure" demoticist and dialogist. This study examines the "rhetorical question" as the chief charac- terizing device in the speech of the heroine of the novel; and the "exclamation" as a stylistic device for differentiating the speech of various personages in the novel. The study catalogues the various words of exclamation assigned characters and surveys the idiosyncracy of the heroine of answering questions by questions; of answering statements with questions; and of expressing ideas by questions. -......-_ v.4»- David Robert WEinberg The results of this analysis point up the fact that while much of our knowledge of the characters in this novel may result from events and situations, our real feeling for the characters as indi- viduals is a result of their individualized speech. THE NATURE, STYLE, AND AESTHETICS OF PAPADHIAMANDIAN PROSE By David Robert Weinberg A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of Comparative Literature 1977 @ Copyr ight by DAVID ROBERT WEINBERG 1977 DEDICATION To my wife . ii Om . .._ ‘ I s~ ..\._h_‘ , .. """ Fhv-—v ._. - "' O-.~ \.\.._ ". “"w-v \_ ' l .... ‘.__5 fi-. . ' \'. , :1. ‘u ‘.. . H P—-. .Io ‘ ..: C .Vv. . ~‘Qp. N ‘ “ha I n _,-‘ . . . . ...5_v ‘ . U . 3. q “' U”- ‘. .- ‘ I . nu- Jo r.“‘: C F V’vu, 0 AG.-. ‘g V‘ ._ ‘ I. -' n_.- ‘. ."~.‘. _. v" '~ nu‘ ' e'\ "i 3 Al."v‘. N-‘_, ' .._V ‘ .v._‘I~ , . ‘ul ~.r \ v V.. .- e . - ¢.,t ‘ p- ‘C an o LQ §A_‘ .. I l TABLE OF CONTENTS LIST OF TABLES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I. II. III. IV. VI. VII. INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THE CRITICISM AND THE ARGUMENT . . . . . PHONOLOGY AND ORTHOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . A. Neuter Nouns in -- L ; -- LO\I. B. Consonant Combinations . . . . . . C. Orthographic Variation FORMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A. Subjunctive Aorist Third Person Plurals B. Augment: Temporal and Syllabic . . C. Participles: Passives in -- ué\mx;. VOCABULARY . . . . . . . SUMMARY . . . . . . . . . . . . . CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A. The Nature, Style and Aesthetics of Papadhiamandian Prose: Definitions . B. The Nature, Style, and Aesthetics of Papadhiamandis' Michté . . . APPENDIX A . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . APPENDIX B O O O I O O O O O O O O O I O I O 0 0 APPENDIX C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii Page iv 16 22 25 25 29 34 42 47 48 48 50 65 81 219 281 .o. .5 ;.F- rid all.» .I d L; .m‘ .3 _. a. d . ~ Table 10. ll. 12. 13. 14. 15. LIST OF TABLES Katharevousa: Neuter Nouns -- Lov . . . . . . . . Demotic: Neuter Nouns ending in - L . . . . . Proportion of L / LON’Neuter Nouns in the Descriptive Passages of The Murderess Distribution of Katharevousa Neuter Nouns in - Lov Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One . . . . . . Distribution of Demotic Neuter Nouns in - L Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One . . . . . Neuter Nouns in I./Lcn20ccurring in Both the Demotic and Katharevousa Forms . . . . . . . . . Katharevousa: Nouns in - CCNJ Genitive Singulars . . . . . . . . . . . Demotic: Nouns - LOG Genitive Singulars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Proportion of Demotic/Katharevousa Words in the Descriptive Passages of The Murderess . . Consonant Combinations from Chapter One of The Murderess . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Use, Form and Location of the Word "Stream” (or "Draft”) in The Murderess . . . . . . . . . . . . Proportion of the Word "Stream" (or "Draft") in the Katharevousa and Demotic Forms . . . . . . . . . Orthographic Variation of Identical Words which Appear in The Murderess . . . . . . . . . . . . Subjunctive: Aorist, Third Person Plurals Katharevousa . . . . . . . . . Subjunctive: Aorist, Third Person Plurals Demotic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv Page 10 ll 12 13 13 15 15 15 18 20 21 24 25 26 -h. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. Pr0portion of Katharevousa/Demotic Subjunctive Aorist Third Person Plurals . . . . . . . . . . Distribution of Demotic Subjunctive: Aorist, Third Person Plurals--Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding me O O O O C O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O I Distribution of Katharevousa Subjunctive: Aorist, Third Person Plurals--Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One . . . . . . . . . . . . . Syllabic Augment of Simple Verbs First One Hundred Lines of The Murderess Augment Preceding the Preposition . Internal Augment Temporal Augment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Participles in -- uévoc. . . . Proportion of Demotic/Katharevousa Participles in -- ‘uéKRDQ. . . Distribution of Katharevousa Participles in -- lJéVCK; --Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding me O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 0 Distribution of Demotic Participles in -- ué\mx; Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One . . . . Vocabulary . . . . . Vocabulary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Phrases with Word ”Mother" (Chapter I) . . . . . Rhetorical Questions in the Dialogue of The Murderess . . . . . . . . Differentiated Character Exclamations in The Murderess . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 28 29 31 32 32 33 35 4O 41 41 42 44 45 67 79 A .‘ — v». ...o.-,.. .._.-. ‘l .a‘ n“ .u A “I . v. u I“ .5. J. . c .3 .. . .4. q: s. u .3 .2 . c v. -.. .C u 9 ‘ 9 ~ .. a .o- ~ p .I. o\. . .2 .3 L. ... v. Jim m a .t .3 L. .3 .. x 2. . . . up. 3‘ .u» - u V. c p s .‘ « .n ‘ o no ~ .- .nh ~ . u . o. I. INTRODUCTION The purpose of this dissertation is to analyze and describe as precisely as possible the nature, style, and aesthetics of the Papadhiamandian michte in order to attempt to settle some of the controversy found in the criticism as to whether Papadhiamandis is a writer of the katharevousa making concessions to the demotic or whether Papadhiamandis is fundamentally a demoticist. If it can be proved by statistical and descriptive analysis that the character of Papadhiamandis' michte is a result of random and haphazard selection of language (which I believe it is), and not the result of deliberate choice, then the articulation of a third possibility-- that Papadhiamandis is a writer whose prose is best defined by its own characteristics--will perhaps provide an alternative for settling the issue in a meaningful manner. The material analyzed will be the language from a text of Papadhiamandis' most mature period. The method of analysis will be based upon critical dis- tinctions between the katharevousa and the demotic as dictated by grammar and usage, especially distinctions of orthography, morphology, and lexical choice. Finally, some assessment as to the aesthetics of the michte itself will be made based upon the relation of language to purpose. II. THE CRITICISM AND THE ARGUMENT There is much rhetoric but little analysis on the style of Alexandros Papadhiamandis. G. Valeta, in his book, Papadhiamandis: His Life, Work, Era, summarizes the rhetoric as follows: The bibliography concerning his life and work is enormous and surprises by its extent and variety. Yet, sub- stantive it is not, only a pile of chaff. The greater part of the bibliography on Papadhiamandis consists of occasion articles, announcements, accounts, annals, scholia, opinions, poems, descriptions, anecdotes, information, recollections, obituaries. The serious critical articles are few. They can be counted on the fingers and the studies which offer some- thing substantive are those based upon textual study of the work. In all the publications there is worship, praise, attempts at judgment, much subjectivism. Much of the "worship, Judgment, " and "subjectivism" Valeta mentions above is the work of partisans--demoticists Kfi.5mu0TLKLOTég) and purists, (0‘L uafiaoeuowudvot.) --praising or damning, claiming and disclaiming Papadhiamandis in their struggle over the Greek "Language Question."2 The rivalry between the camps was often comic. We are told, for example, that for Papadhiamandis' (uvrnuyjuvcfl memorial . . . the chief defenders of the katharevousa of Constan- tinople in order to counter and thwart the memorial of P. /sic/ by the demoticists (1911), claimed him one of their 1G. Valeta, Hanaétaudtvrlg: ‘H Zwfi, T6 "EOYOL .H'ETIOLfi E}; (Athens: 'ASnva'CnaL 'Enéoocg, 1955), p.372. For a summary of the Greek "Language Question," see Robert Browning, "The Development of the National Language," Medieval and lkflern Greek (London: Hutchinson and Co., 1969), pp. 103-18. a... .v- . . .A-uv -... , I r In. 5“ ¢ . .a. u u r w 'v.‘ ‘ ~_ U~-.- - . - l u u 0.; - . .‘fi 58—. . §4~-~ .i" I '. u . “.. I.‘ ~ “& 1“ A» .. I 5 H D. c ‘l't rr’ ‘ ‘C .I. ‘- k,‘ - H“ . l .U Q!“ . ~‘ V ‘ hud— . n n : §."| ‘10 a J u “ s‘ ’ \:‘ “\ 'I: own hoping to _s_ave his "abused memory" declaring that "nakktapofi _/_extreme demoticists] and Papadhiamandis are as soot and silk, two extremes diametrically Opposed, that the celebrated memorial, from which surely the bones of the deceased writer would rattle, if it came to pass, would be nothing other than infringement upon the [right- ful7 duties of others. . . . " Neither side, however, was particularly happy or comfortable with the utx‘tfi , or michte, "mixed" character of Papadhiamandian prose. Though the demoticists claimed Papadhiamandis as their own, Psiharis, founder of the modern demotic movement, described Papadhiamandis' language as being "very much more katharevousa" ( napdt noAL') naptooorepo nafiapeuouoa )-2 The Purists, 0n the other hand, while praising Papadhiamandis' narrative talents, "didn't look upon his mixed language favorably.”3 Purist K. Rankavis, while praising Papadhiamandis' short story, "Dream.on the Wave," ("OVSLQO 0T6 M13110. "), finds fault with the language.4 N. Hatzidhakis calls Papadhiamandis an ”artist with the pen" but not one of those writers who "leads the spiritual life of the country.”5 As for Papadhiamandis, he apparently took very little part in the rhetorical polemic himself. Vlahoyannis claims Papadhiamandis "could never stand psiharism . . . never read a book written in 1Valeta, Hanaétaudvrng , p. 63 2Psihari, " "Evmon 8d thj OOVCXLLTI," Noumas III (January, 1905). _ 3Valeta, Hanaétaudvrng , p. 384, citing periodical Nea Zoe IV (April 1908). 4Ibid. 51bid. . .v."‘ ._-..- . Q _ _. . ~ . ad .5 ... . n .C .2. .t Cc - . . .1 . \.. DC a” 2?» ~ .¢ 9 IL .‘ c K c :1. ’t C. 51¢ .t v. 0 15. s I. he“ . . v .. . .C . . .Q 1.. Q; .5. my a» y A 1 A ..-U a); .14.. . .4 a .C at J. . . 1.. 2a 0 ~c. ... .I. «a. N J. . .5 .. . ui. s : . .42 a: .3 h\ s... «b x I . . I... .. . . . ... c ”I . . 3 S .. a 3 2.. .. .. -\ A s . o . In an» :n .. ¢ s s .t h «I.» 7 A :5 a. ’5 .I J .9. Ha. ya. W‘J .uia ‘5 n- ! . . u t A . . .5 . q . n1 . u x J . n V . x Q ~ . ‘ . I e . r n. .... x: I .._. .... we. .. .._. .r. A... k. t... 1 Valeta concludes that Papadhiamandis ”Loved the demotic. 2 demotic." Hated psiharism." Papadhiamandis' argument with the psiharists was perhaps not as a purist but as a demoticist. But the fact is that, except for the essay "Language and Society" (" 1")»(3000. Raf. KOvavia "),3 which deals somewhat with his antipsiharism, he never really entered the katharevousa versus demotic arena either by word or deed. For the most part he kept silent and continued writing in michté. Though the rhetoric concerning Papadhiamandis' style may be prolific, analysis is limited, often superficial. Modern scholars usually describe his prose as katharevousa except for the dialogue. For example, P. Bien in his book, Kazantzakis and the Linguistic Revolution in Greek Literature (1972), writes: "Papadiamantis, the most widely read of the naturalistic novelists who flourished circa 1880-1910, employed demotic for dialogue and puristic for narration."4 As we shall see from the analysis which follows, the characterization of Papadhiamandis' narration as "puristic" is imprecise. Some scholars, those who approached the writings of Papadhia- mandis objectively without trying to bend his prose into "pure" demotic or "pure" katharevousa, recognized that they were dealing with some sort of michte the nature of which, however, they were never quite sure of. D. Balanos in his article, "Papadhiamandis: Legend 1 G. Vlahoyannis, " mpg ypdcpercxl. r'] ioropfia" Lea Hestia (December, 1938), p. 1634. ZValeta. Hanaé LauavrrLg, P - 461 - 3A. Papadhiamandis, m'Anavra 1:06 Akegéyépou HanaéLduavrn, entuéAELa 1". Bale-co, Vol. 5 (Athens: 'Hpankng Banaln,I954)’ pp. 300-310. 4Peter Bien, Kazantzakis and the Linguistic Revolution in geek Literature (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1972) , p.121. a..-” " - ...4> - L. .3..~-"' . ' Agaoo . .\» u an o .w-u4 t. gun-z .‘ .C ‘5 a: 0.: 5 .\~ ». . ..|. ~.. an 3: 3‘ a“ o i. is u. a he I. .C 95 O n.“ fl s‘ fir -\ Ads _ ?,S . . Wk . I I . ‘Ifi ' n.- ...« Add a .H» L. D. n .N \ e S S Q .3. .I. r .k. :« \ . Mx at .T. nu .. . . . ., .. .. c nut“. .h\ R: M e . s; e .: ‘E ..I( o. .3 a 51 hi .Is 7 v and Reality, which appeared in the Christmas, 1941 ”Nea Hestia" dedicated to Papadhiamandis, summarizes the scholarship on Papadhiamandis' language and attempts a description of his own: As for his language, there is disagreement: Most consider him a katharevousian, others however characterize him as a friend of the demotic or user of the demotic; most accurately of all, Palamas states that ”he changes grammar, style, language in accordance with his circumstance, taste, disposition." I. Kambouroglous finds that his language " noré éév noupdgm, " (is never tiring); the more precise, less given to exaggeration, K. Hatzopoulos, of the opposite view, has thelopinion that his language "noupdgm," (is tiring) . . . . . . From a language point of view, Papadhiamandis does not have any definite direction; as he says himself, he writes as it occurs to him; and he himself does not know if he is a katharevousian or a demoticist . . . Papadhiamandis' natural inconstancy is very evident also in the language which he uses; sometimes-~more often-~he writes in the katharevousa, sometimes in the demotic, more often, however, in a very unaesthetic, for me at least, manner, /for7 he mixes in the narrative, in thezsame phrase, forms of extreme katharevousa and demotic . . . Even Valeta in his exhaustive study, Papadhiamandis: His Life, WOrk, Era, only superficially analyzes the language. He traces a trend toward the demotic, but his examples are few and impressionis- tic: . . . The syntax leans toward the demotic--it simplifies itself. Nevertheless in 1893 and 1894 he still hesitates over forms. He writes: " eig Tfig Bouoktalg'hut also " eig rdtg duuouétdg...".He writes: "c‘wdueoa sig rdg...‘ and " avdueoa etc Inc. . . . " He writes: "usrago mv...‘ . . . ." More correct would be to say how there comes a period when the language becomes demoticized . . . One step was necessary for himp-the change of form and the uniformity of syntax--in order to arrive at the demotic. But he did not do it! . . . He turned back . . .3 11). Balanos, " ‘O Homaétaudvrng: @pOAog uat rtpay- mnnérnc." 355 (Christmas, 1941), 24. 2Ibid., p. 25. 3Valeta, Hanaétaudvrng , p. 461. VI In A. . run... "50 irnh- . h .._i I u . rt. T. .3 —~\ v . .. a > (I .u a .uu .» . . .S “a u A .. a: nu w. L... {A a 5 e t t. .: F. .. b s .C .\u .1 w.. it“ Lu u S An .J. c . Vs a! 5 ac . I. a .fl. IA .1“ 1 ‘ . . 9. a. «\U Q... S '7‘ I. n‘ a.» .l 9“ r. J a o u a; .. . .1 ». a: .1 a... .91 HI . s v. o u o . Q . 5‘. .c. .v» Q. c.“ o u A.» N. .t a “7 u. r“ .1— ... .u.. .c 1.“ \. an; .~ . ‘u ~ . a.» v. c I ‘ .p. . . .. u . . LI .e. v . .A .11 o . C Yet, Vlahoyannis, writer, critic and friend of Papadhiamandis as late as 1938 characterizes Papadhiamandis' writing as being anti- demotic. How then can the question of Papadhiamandis' style be more accurately settled? While it is true that Papadhiamandis' early work, especially Ghyftopoula, is written in "pure" katharevousa; and two later works (Holeriasmené and Thavma Tis KaisarianES) in "pure" demotic,2 neither of these extremes represent the style of the more than two hundred stories in the Papadhiamandian corpus. They are written in what has been called a michté. But while the more serious scholars, those who remained objective in the "language question" polemic as it concerned itself with the writings of Papadhiamandis, recognized a michté, no one attempted a systematic analysis to deter- mine its nature. Such an analysis is the subject of this thesis. I believe the place to analyze the style of Papadhiamandis is in a work in the so-called michté; a work written at the height of Papadhiamandis' powers. during his most mature period; a work generally considered by critics a masterpiece. Such a work is The Murderess ("H <5vLooa ). Written during the summer of 1902 and published as a series between January 15 and June 15, 1903 in the periodical "Panathenaia," The Murderess represents Papadhiamandis' style at its finest. Of this work G. Valeta, the foremost Papadhiamandian scholar, undies: "The Murderess is from all angles the masterpiece of l?apadhiamandis, for written during the years of his advanced maturity 1Ibid., p. 464, citing Kritikes Selidhes III (April, 1938). ZValeta,Hana6Ldyavrng , P- 461- “s \ Ann-baA ' a b...»¢..n_ ‘0 .- ... 5 .3 .H .H v. C . . 2. t T ,T T m.. .. L. .. T. V . . .q o :u g c . c . :u no ~\v . . .... ‘r .\ c v s \I . .. 5 la. .5 u . —_ .. . .9 . ~. . . . .C .L M . 5; C) o . TL .. s . V . ..,. .-.. : o; ... .n vt ... AC 3 ... s (H 9. ~» J. ... .s 3 .t o; u... u m Rid .. o L. . . 4.. v . u“ .- a I: x: 9 3L 5 a r .5 .u v . . . .1 2 . . .. .. .3 .C .x In :4 a. .O . . . c .. .4 b “b b s n. n. . .‘¢ 3 :. r... C 3. :. 3 a. I z .. .. . 1:. ~ . u.. v. o .. u .3... .‘ . {Cu 1‘ -.P.. :o. ...e— Nu" 4v . . . . 1 it contains the richest examples of his art. . " And on this point there is general consensus throughout the criticism. The Murderess then has been chosen for analysis, the purpose of which is to describe as precisely as possible the nature of Papadhiamandis' prose. The results should refine the often crude description that he uses the katharevousa for narration and the demotic for dialogue; should indicate whether he is a writer of the katharevousa making concessions to the demotic or whether he is fundamentally a demoticist; should establish whether the michté as generally defined applies to Papadhiamandian prose; and finally, should reveal some characteristics upon which a judgment as to the aesthetics of the style can be based. The method of analysis is based upon critical distinctions between the katharevousa and the demotic as dictated by grammar and usage, especially distinctions of orthography, morphology, and lexical choice.3 The elements separated out of the text into the katharevousa and demotic fall into the following categories:4 lIbid., p. 606. 2For a suunnary of the criticism, see Valeta, HanaétaudV‘tng pp. 373-425. 3For derivation of this method, see Browning, Medieval and Modern Greek, pp. 118-19. A photocopy of the entire text of Th3_ Murderess as it appeared in its first printing in "H. Panathenaia" (serialized January - June, 1903) is included in Appendix C. This text has been numbered in Stephanus fashion for positive identifica- tion of examples and quotations. All page and line numbers in the studies which follow (i.e., 203/5) refer to this Appendix. In addition, I have translated the entire text into English (Appendix B). 4After Browning, Medieval and Modern Greek, p. 118. T. on” I. .. t. -1 2. Phonology and Orthography A. Neuter nouns in - L / LOV B. Consonant combinations C. Orthographic variation Forms A. Subjunctive third person plurals B. Augment: Temporal and Syllabic C. Participles: passives in - uévog Vocabulary -'u-~ O.‘_r --~._.‘.-.u: o. - ‘ .r "'. I ‘--‘ \ -_,. . ‘ v Q. I F‘. .. o- ? G. §..“. ~ }. . -‘ A. A . 5" ‘ H o - .. u-‘ a._ , - A \ u -.: " no. ~. - r-‘Ih \ I"; "i; l \- I “-\- ‘. A. W. ' w s.‘. " m. {\- . 'vJ :- I . N ‘- ‘ A. . .V‘d "\ ’- .".'\.‘ A A. . "V l"~.n ‘xr‘. A. V "v’ ‘5‘! ‘ .‘ 3“ .'_ A. b I." ”J ~_“ . 'd I.“ g .3 _r ‘u ~. 5 ‘5‘: ”J ~u ‘ .‘.:.“ 5 ~‘ _ v.) .1 A' I ~. '. ‘ \ ”J W I .‘ -‘ I. ‘ v s “, v \. "~‘,A‘ \ Uv \" V v. A L.‘ "~ F-‘ ‘K n‘. 's 4: ‘ u . ‘« “- ~.‘ ~ -. & ~ I-‘ ‘ C \\'\ , x .. i, ‘e III. PHONOLOGY AND ORTHOGRAPHY A. Neuter Nouns in --l.; - LOV Modern Greek neuter nouns ending in - Levolved from the diminutive forms of ancient masculine and feminine nouns which in time lost their diminutive meaning. They thus revert to the meaning of their prototype. In the katharevousa, these neuter nouns end in -- Lov ; in the demotic, they end in — L . Below is a listing of all — L /- LOV which appear in the descriptive passages of The Murderess. TABLE 1 Katharevousa: Neuter Nouns -- box) * Word Translation Location (page/line) dundptov store - room 372/44 dvriov pole 266/34 éuudpLov cupboard 373/89 nakdfitov basket 235/29, 38; 405/9 uapmfiov nail 308/66 natdxpltov door-step 406/38 nnpfiov candle 307/56; 432/44 ukuétov key 372/48 oonfitLov house 233/17 natéiov child 198/51, 54; 472/71; 501/94 navfiov cloth 266/35; 528/74; 529/4, 14 nordutov river 306/64 TLOTT'IOLOV glass 196/96; 408/9 DdB5LOV cane 405/9 TUDCOV cheese 408/9; 470/17 (mytfltov wick 304/11 a'fExcluding all words in quoted dialogue; words inside quotation marks in descriptive passages; and proper nouns. 10 TABLE 2 Demotic: Neuter Nouns ending in - L * Word Translation Location (page/line) dYépL boy 501/96; 502/10 duné A, L vineyard 197 / 9 1 dV'rl'. pole (distaff) 266/42 augc breast 472/72 YDCSOL piaster 234/33 51.0.11. reason 470/55 boUAdTLL closet 236/42 gaunékt satchel 196/57 LquCHL coffee-pot 472/12 uaAdfiL basket 307/56,68; 341/60; 432/44; 435/67,96; 436/56; 437/72,74; 471/61; 472/14; 499/4; 501/69; 528/27,68; 529/25; 530/27; 531/14; 532/62; 436/98; 533/86 Rolando L ink-well 19 7/6 8 MQAOBL hut 470/52,58; 471/82; 498/30,67; 500/46; 501/55; 528/34; 529/60 nadeL boat 235/62 110.1(va cellar 234/82; 237/86; 238/46 MLACuL mug 408/13 MA€L5C key 432/48 uondéL flock 436/74 npaot wine 199/11 18 L 86.5 L meadow 235/101 Auxvdp L lantern 498/69 uavfifik L kerchief 306/55 luxvépi fold, pen 500/46 LLONI'COGvL remedy 500/16 “udIL eye (glance) 237/82 uscmuépL noon 371/38 uOLpvoY L dirge 470/22 uovoner path 406/82; 437/51; 438/27; 470/45; 471/68; 500/1; 530/39; 533/60 uROCTdVL melon patch 197/9 unpfiuL coffee—pot 528/69 naLc‘St’. child 271/81 ‘nepLBéAL garden 434/59 TmYdGL well 308/58; 372/l,22; 471/3 'nlde flank 272/50 ‘nofidpL foot 431/28 1107.0120fo maidenhair 306/49 norfioL glass 199/10 nowudéL premature (baby) 197/56 DdBSL cane 432/44; 435/56; 437/75; 471/61; 499/3 11 TABLE 2—-Continued Word Translation Location (page/line) pant raki l96/71,77 pTLdel. Shelf 196/77; 236/41; 498/70 oapdnL termite 196/34 oekdx1 belt 532/78 0 L V561) L sheet 408/14 OTLLTL stairs 266/54 CNICTL house 197/8,90; 371/39,42; 406/78,86; 431/49; 434/44; 435/72 TnYdVL fry pan 197/9 TpaYOGGL song 470/21 Tupi cheese 435/68 cpéOL fez 406/17; 431/25 (010.0116 flask 470/ 17 xayLdtL porch 268/2,29; 308/56 xépL hand 431/29,3O xpduL shawl 303/35; 425/95; 531/15 xwpdcpl. field 195/72; 368/25; 434/44 dmnlf bread 407/31; 435/67 *Excluding all words found in quoted dialogue; inside quotation marks in descriptive passages; and proper nouns. 0n investigation, it at first appears, at least in the realm of the neuter -L/-Lov noun, that Papadhiamandis was tending, as 1 Baleta observes, to demoticize the prose. Of 146 instances, 119 or 81—1/2 percent are demotic forms (see Table 3). But it is important TABLE 3 Proportion of L/TOV Neuter Nouns in the Descriptive Passages of The Murderess Demotic Katharevousa Total Neuter Nouns Frequency 119 12 146 % 81.5% 18.5% 100% 1See page 5. . 0. ..§- OP»! .- o 6» .‘~-. unn- ..--- ~ v-u * I - ...—~: .5 I‘. l" a L. w ' - \ c I .- .-‘ [V ‘. A . ~ “I. 3‘ ‘:‘. "§ - - 7": \ ‘. .-‘ “ § r ‘ "‘ k ‘5 a! II \— .. § ‘. \Q \ “’\. . ‘-t:"'- x ‘. ‘\.' 4 «n N- \ .‘_ - \ I“ w " ‘ - ‘..- \ t ‘ - . -—-. ‘ “ x __ Q \.—~\ ‘-\ - 12 to note that the proportion of multiple occurrence to single occur- rence is virtually the same for both the katharevousa and the demotic (see Tables 4 and 5). Words which Papadhiamandis uses in the TABLE 4 Distribution of Katharevousa Neuter Nouns in - LOV Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One Word Translation Frequency Percent *naLéfiov child 4 14.8 nowfiov cloth 4 14.8 11016.0 L ov basket 3 11 . 2 nnpfiov candle 2 7 .4 rupfiov cheese 2 7 .4 norfio LOV glass 2 7 .4 Sub—total 17 63.0 All Others (Frequency of 1) 10 37.0 TOTAL '27 100.0 *Multiple occurrence in both the demotic and katharevousa form. katharevousa are repeated proportionately as many times as are the demotic words. Moreover, of the 16 different words which appear in the katharevousa, almost half are used in the demotic form as well (see Table 6). Thus, though Papadhiamandis' use of the demotic in this instance is numerically overwhelming, there appears to be no deliberate choice. We cannot say, as might have been hypothesized, that Papadhiamandis chooses one set of nouns in the demotic and another set in the katharevousa. We can only say that when confronted by the need to use one of the ancient diminutives in the nominative or accusative case, Papadhiamandis most of the time uses the modern demotic form. " {\k“ \ 13 TABLE 5 Distribution of Demotic Neuter Nouns in - L Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One Word Translation Frequency Percent *uaAdSL basket 21 17 .6 OTLIZTL house 9 7 .6 uaAOBL but 9 7.6 uovondtL P8th 8 6-7 deéL cane 5 4.2 TLUYdGL W811 4 3 .4 MGTG’N L cellar 3 2.5 xwpdmL field 3 2.5 anLer pordn 3 2.5 xpduL shawl 3 2.5 0(1ch shelf 3 2.5 aYépL boy 2 1.7 maul bread 2 1.7 wéOL fez 2 1.7 ‘xépL hand 2 1.7 pant raki 2 1.7 Sub-total 81 68.1 All others (Frequency of One) _38_ 31.9 TOTAL 0 119 100.0 *Multiple occurrence in both the demotic and katharevousa form. TABLE 6 Neuter Nouns in L/LOV Occurring in Both the Demotic and Katharevousa Forms Katharevousa Demotic Translation dvrfiov dvrt P018 naAdOLov naAdSL baSkeat uAsLéiov MASLéé key OUTIL‘L’LOV CTIL‘L'L house HGLGCOV ‘naLéfi Child nornofiov notfipL glass TUQCOV Tupi cheese 0‘ u. .1. .. p qun .QLN "1: .6- . -.. h‘. \~ \‘ . -- ‘s v « .n x. Q Q» 14 That there appears to be no deliberate choice can be further illustrated by examining passages in the text where the same word is used in both forms. The word "basket" is repeated 21 times in its demotic form and 3 times in its katharevousa form. Below is a quota- tion from the text for each: 'Awofi efxe ysufiosL To MdkdOL Inc, not b fiALog éuALve molt xaunkd,. . . 307/68—69 "Since she had filled her basket, and the sun slanted very 10W, 0 O O -- rd éuonrsv fi rd énsppfingsv, éyéuLgs to uakdaLov Ing, n'énéorpsms to BodGL etg Ifiv otnfiav. 235/37-39 --she cut them or uprooted them, filled her basket, and returned at night to the house.” "In both sentences, the grammatical setting for ”basket" is identical-~object of the verb"ygnifigu)", ”to fill.” The forms, of course, of ”basket" are interchangeable-~both use identical phrase- ology--"her basket." It is this kind of random mixing of forms that is so characteristic of Papadhiamandis' style. And it was written at a time when most Greek authors were attempting to "purify" their language toward one or the other polarities or toward a rational and consistent michtE. It is in the investigation of the genitive case for the - LOO and ~1k30 neuter nouns that patterns of habit within inconsistent use begin to appear (see Tables 7 and 8). Here the figures reverse theme selves (see Table 9). Of 26 occurrences, almost 80 percent are ~ 1 See Bien, Kazantzakis, pp. 13-34. 15 TABLE 7 Katharevousa : Nouns - LOU Geni tive Singulars Word Translation Location (page/line) oeoiou of the fez 195/48 naLOLOU child 195/95; 196/44; 305/58 mm Lou paper 197/ 73 IGELétou journey 301/65 natwyg (on basement 266/14; 408/11 rupfiou cheese 303/35 Auxvap 60L) lantern 304/19 uqkqfifiou basket 306/55 ueoocpop {,QU petticoat 341/89 OXOLVLOU string 371/83 ouauvfiou stool 407/11 nepLBoALou garden 435/3 tponaptou hymn 471/ 19 uavénkfiou lamp 472/2; 528/79 1101108 Lou cabin 498/33 uovaornotou monastery 502/104 TABLE 8 Demotic: Nouns — LOO Genitive Singulars Word Translation Location (page/line) ualauap L00 ink-well 197 /70 mouorav L00 dress 302/7 TmYOLSLoO well 371/78 nouALoi‘) bird 434/101 MOAUB LOO cabin 472/50 uOVCXOTanOO monastery 502/85 TABLE 9 Proportion of Demotic/Katharevousa Words in the Descriptive Passages of The Murderess Genitive Singular Demotic Katharevousa Total Frequency 6 20 26 % 23.1% 76.9% 100.0% l6 katharevousa. Here we must say that Papadhiamandis, when confronted by the need for a —COL)/-LCfi) neuter noun in the genitive, usually uses the katharevousa. We shall see this reverse pattern repeat itself in the analysis of Consonant Combinations. B. Consonant Combinations Robert Browning in his book, Medieval and Modern Greek, traces the changes in pronunciation "of certain consonantal combinations involving plosive plus plosive, spirant plus spirant, and <3 plus spirant" from the later middle ages. These changes in most dialects are as follows: 111: m: 03 > CT > X13 >431: x8 (08 ox > on He is quick to point out that even today, the changes are "incomplete, insofar as loan words in the demotic from the purist language tend to preserve the traditional pronunciation." In other instances, the changes are "only partially carried out: OXOAEEO is as good demotic as 014018115, {fidOXDUOQ as dounuoc." Browning's chart (in the same text mentioned above) of the "Diagnostic Features of Klatharevousaj and Diemotic7" lists RT, )Lt (p3, X3 for the katharevousa and (DT: X17 for the demotic as chief distinguishing consonant combination features between the languages. l Browning, Medieval and Modern Greek, p. 79. 2Ibid. 3 . Ibid., p. 80. See also M. Triandaphyllides, MLupn Neo- SAAJuutnn PpappaILnfl (Thessalonica, 1975), pp. 34—35, for partial list of loan words. 4 Browning, Medieval and Modern Greek, pp. 116—17. . . n . 1w I‘ 7‘ ‘ Av . "uu ~.. «a. .3. I.- r. s. . . n. . n .“4. ,.__ ..-.!.-' ......e.. - . a:.u-,.v,..,‘ _.‘ r- v . .g..-.-_.-._.. o. ‘1 -0.“ ‘V'"‘ "‘-'-una._. .' ' - ‘7 I... ‘ u— . _‘V "h vu .__“ t4 .q ' - \-.'.' n- .‘ 1‘ ‘ «o ‘ Av _‘ \ "u...” .4 .: 7 1 . -__ .~' c... . n A -.1:‘( 3““. a - b~_“ 1 17 Based on Browning's diagnostic chart is the survey of "Chapter One" of The Murderess for consonant combinations (Table 10). This survey quickly indicates that Papadhiamandis, at least in this most basic differentiation, prefers the "consonant combinations" (OlnumnVqui ouunkéyuara) of the katharevousa. I even think a case can be made for the four exceptions in (p1: on the chart: upucprév "hide and seek" is of course a children's game and no doubt only a word of the demotic. (This illustrates the difficulty Greek writers had in writing novels about everyday mundane affairs in the formalized purist tongue which is poor in concrete vocabulary.) As for calling robbers "ukéqnxxtg" , it may be that even the learned used the demotic pronunciation for this word. The great body of songs of the guerrilla mountain Chieftains which arose from popular ballads of the early Middle Ages and reached a climax in the eighteenth century is called the "brigand songs" ( kléftika ).1 And in the narrative of " the repeated term " HXéCDT-‘GLQ " refers to such "Chapter One, mountain guerrilla bands pursuing the mother of Hadula Frangoyannou at a time prior to the liberation of Greece from Turkish occupation. Yet the chart is somewhat misleading, for we find as we have in other categories that in specific instances there appears no deliberate choice. Below, for example, is a survey on the use of the word "stream" or "draft," a word which is repeated throughout the text. In the nominative and accusative Singulars, which account for one-half of the instances of occurrence (see Table 12), the demotic (Déuuo. occurs almost as often as psihul in the katharevousa. Here See Kimon Friar, "Introduction," Modern Greek Poetry (New York: Simon and SChuster, 1973), p. 9. ..x u 7:... u e X n . I .. ..........>.. .3; :54 31:-...-.._.......Zu......_._... .2 .2... LL. ~L.2~..v ::...~ 2.2: :2.~£::.C :2...:.r.:..... Q» ~ ...~.~=<.P lil‘llll'lll’ll'l .1" [fir ‘ l llllll‘n' Il'l l8 303 mumwfim magmapxow £33 new? 552.3 333 3333 905530 $33 pogo 90009ch mmfiuafi 396qu $3 >8Px3s© 233 “Ema: 98.92.; SR3 ”Em: 9052.5 mm§m\m3 woman 3.8 wbcpxwéo mmRS umuumumnu moompxooox R23 33230 woocpxdodx DRE :3. «(:53va SEE unwfic 69.5.5 11111111 Inllnnu:Innisnlwmnlnlllnulnnunln Q. 0303 umuooa dowpoxapfi $33 30.3”. >wptsaow 333 gnu «65h: 3R3 amoucgmm 6995980 :33 3320... Gov 2.39m»? 3mg 3: Opwpfiooxmw 333 How: max/awoke 3:3 mwfia 610.. 3255» alimma wmmwuamn Ammav Cmbupfidmw 33$ muonnou advent“: 91mg 3393 «500.9553 333 xoom wow o3: «69830: 03mg 335 >053Q0m ~3qu anon—non usopewaax SENS 30.23 wpflsqaw 35:0me cofiumfimamum. HQ. Amfizowmmv :oHumHmamuH HE: mowuwooq p.33 oowumooq . v.33 PX 3.9 “owuoEmn 0x “09 3.: SE “mm:o>oum:u§ mmoumvusz 9E. mo 95 “mucosa Scum maowumawnfiou uamcofiuoo o H mumflw A 3... —\.....:I_ v p..._ .3- :I: ..—. rug—u -§.v.v.~ A 32‘ ~ \.:&-:~» p...~ u:.v...h CC x L -~ :C-sLL. I ll‘ l‘III - .l -1 1 - n \u-~..\o. avov-unnu s-..-..~ I 0a» - U~.-.~<.~. i. I l9 m\mmH 30H Mfi&dfidax llllllllllll Hm mm 333 53 booms 333 3.3.3 .. wOfime mmfiuma @9593 >O>d®9w axing 33”.:on >O>O®9wu om . wmfiwma mg: mango: a ONES.” woof/am. fiQw>M%9 Ao:HH\owmmv aowumamcwuH Aocwa\owmav cofiuwamamuH dowumooq v.33 cowumooq v.33 pong." uncounoH mange . ' .‘ R.-V-.....'L _‘ "‘~O-~3s.l~ ... ‘ \ ---~ h ‘ 4 .QH‘. v , I M--.o‘" _ I . W l"‘“"“'5 ... . .‘ O . ‘ '4 I '~¢.u‘. 'u' . k“ .. .‘ - .‘t 'y (\.,_ «gs.‘5 -g..] | Q .- \ . . . , I ‘ua I '~ fl AO-‘...c a . ":73 ._.“J ‘ "4‘ u.‘,‘“na 3‘ :« . a “ - §_ vs... Q“\;: I . ‘ t . u ~ ... t“‘~‘. "\ ‘H . .A \ 20 TABLE 11 Use, Form and Location of the Word "Stream" (or "Draft") in The Murderess* KATHAREVOUSA Nominative/Accusative pethul 272/95; 306/30,66,80; (sing.) 435/33,44; 436/80,83, 96; 437/85 Nominative/Accusative peinulto. 235/34; 531/10 (plural) Genitive (sing.) peuuorog 306/11,50,58,63; 341/ 13; 501/11; 502/103 DEMOTIC Nominative/Accusative péLuMI 305/44; 306/64; 307/ (sing.) 2,72,80; 372/59; 437/59; 501/6 Nominative/Accusative pétnulto. 501/72 (plural) Genitive (sing.) péLuMIrog *Excluding Dialogue. is an almost even mixing of forms with no apparent deliberate choice. Papadhiamandis, on the other hand, switches to the katharevousa in other case and number forms, as we have seen already in the -L4/LOV nouns. In the — L/LCH) nouns, though over 80 percent occur in the demotic in the nominative and accusative, the genitive is almost the reverse. Similarly, with the word "stream," the number of occurrences in the katharevousa accusative plural are double those in the demotic; in the genitive singular, katharevousa accounts for 100 percent of the forum. _ .~ ....F .vu u».....vA— 227-...5 .4 a ~nv....:~ —.p.- A: u--~.-A~: .-.uv ...:-s.--- gun... -u-...\w..i~.~._.~.~v~ ‘v-h.v3 own. a .i.‘ tiw Q u.~.§- <.-. .u.~ u .~ ~ nupv~ u.~n:n.u-~.~ .uytm...\a.~r~.u.s -wux 21 N0.00H Nm.mm Nm.©o HQHOH RN ¢ wH HauOH N0.00H O N0.00H o o c .wcHw wOPddfiwQ .mawm MOPUZOwQ w>fiuficoo m>fiuficoo N0.00H Nm.mm Nm.oo m H N HmpaHm Hmuafim m>flummsou< m>Humm=oo< \wcéumdfiaoz .0961in \m>fiumcfiaoz dpdncwa N0.00H N¢.¢q N©.mm wH w OH .wcfim .wafim 0>Hummsou< m>wumm=ou< \m>.3ma.maoz ddiwo \mtfiumsfiaoz dimwo Hmuoa oauoamo mmso>wumnumm wagon uwuoaon paw mmso>mumnumm map a“ Alumna: uov :Ewmuum: 303 93 mo coauuoooum ill‘llll NH mamfiu Cont 2628553!" .... l1: ha... I. u ‘D. fi‘V-I »L.~‘. '- bu O u v 2. n3 .u .nM n,» M.‘ a ‘A ‘425 " lb “&Cs \- I , ‘\ ‘o‘ :‘N a ‘I ox 0‘ s V.‘ A \ £5 . I; w . «Q t. s . w l s nu \ .. p...» A: .4 C JQ J... 22 Contrary to Valeta's claim, this does not constitute a demoticization of the prose; nor does it appear that "only one step was necessary for him." The evidence here points to Papadhiamandis being habituated to writing in the "savant" language. As for elements of the demotic, "no deliberate choice" seems to define the peculiari- ties and characteristics of his own michte. C. Orthographic Variation Mirambel in his essay, Les "Etats De Langue" Dans La Grece Actuelle (1937), discusses the problem of multiple forms in the orthography of Greek vocabulary and makes a comparison with French which has a stable and fixed orthography regardless of geographic variations in pronunciation: La graphie de la langue demotique n'est pas unifiee, et presente souvent des incoherences: on ecritltécnxo "je prends" et noflpvw, gépw "je sais" et Eofipw, uondfiw "je regarde" et nurrdgw, worth. "meche" et (erCAL, 2 3.0 évvofioouv comprehend 2 3 . O neodoouv cross 2 3.0 xaun Acboouv descend 2 3 . O 5¢OOUV give 2 3.0 ouuwaofiv risexq: 2 3.0 Stavuutepeéoouv spend the night 2 3.0 Sub-total 3’3— 50 o All Others (Frequency of l) §_3 SO . 0 Grand Total 66 100.0% 29 TABLE 18 Distribution of Katharevousa Subjunctive: Aorist, Third Person Plurals Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One Word Translation Frequency Percent To: dvaup 1',va L V interrogate 2 9 . 1 dvankannwOL substitute 2 9 . 1 nooownouoarfiowot hmnjson 2 9 l Sub-total 6 27.3 All Others (Frequency of l) 16 72 7 Grand Total 22 100.0% B. Augment: Temporal and Syllabic In modern Greek, temporal augment is generally dropped, the initial vowel therefore remains unchanged throughout the tenses, unaffected by the rules in ancient Greek for lengthening vowels. Syllabic augment--the addition of " E " to the theme for imperfect and aorist indicative verbs—-is still retained in demotic Greek except that the augment disappears in forms not accented on the initial vowel. 'nm3" 'évoawa. €YDG®€Q° dAAd (é)Ydeaue, (é)Yodanne "1 Browning traces these developments back to the early middle ages when "a phonological change took place, many of whose effects were masked by analogical influences. Pretonic initial vowels dis- appeared." bonfirtov onttt 'houmy' huépa uéoa 'Hay" oOéév éév 'hot" For summary of demotic rules for augment, see Triandaphyllides .M L 7401') , 649-56 . «cl, Infiltri. 41.1117; i A. . 30 épwrc‘b own?) "ask” olfivog Atyog "little" ebotomo Bofionm "find" Ownkbg wnAOg 'Tfigh" owdptov tbdot "fish" QOdv adv 'hs"]' Uncertainty in the use of syllabic augment developed, and the "aphaeresis of initial vowels" resulted in the disuse of temporal 2 augment. Perhaps nowhere as much as in the augmentation of past tense verb forms does Papadhiamandis illustrate his preference for the katharevousa and his tendency toward random morphology. Not only does the text of The Murderess reveal an almost exclusive use of the katharevousa for both syllabic and temporal augment, but it reveals an array of archaisms including double augment; augment preceding preposi- tions in compounds; and omission of augment.3 Often these archaisms alternate morphology for identical vocabulary exhibiting an uncertainty or hesitation of choice. Table 19 is a list of all simple verbs of syllabic augment appearing in the first one hundred lines of The Murderess: 1Browning, Medieval and Modern Greek, p. 63. 2 Ibid., pp. 63-69. 3 For summary of ancient Greek augment, see H. W. Smyth, Greek EEEEEQE (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965), Sections 428—59. TABLE 19 Syllabic Augment of Simple Verbs First One Hundred Lines of The Murderess Translation Location No. Word (past tense of) (page/line) 1 éMOLufiTO sleep 193/5 2 éfiuofiage sacrifice 193/6 3 érpeuéoBuve flicker 193/11 4 épptnte throw 193/12 5 écpatvovro appear 193/14 6 éooLnrov throw 193/16 7 €82.8va see 193/31 8 éyewe become 193/34,37,39 9 énaoxe suffer 193/46 10 éBaTILT COST] baptize 193/49 11 écpdvn appear 193/49 12 éuonaoev stop 193/51 13 écpav'tdfie‘to imagine 194/3 14 éuueke be fated 194/5 15 évavoupLge lull to sleep 194/10 16 figeupe know 194/21 17 énpagow do 194/25 18 ém‘wawow go 194/26 19 éoxékagov rest 194/27 20 finnéoeoav able 194/28 21 ééoutuaoe try 194/36 22 éYEAdOSUCOA) deceive 194/39 23 finouoe hear 194/42 24 étoegev run 194/46 Upon examination we can immediately see that there is no instance of dropping the syllabic augment when unaccented: Verbs number 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, ll, 12, 13, 15, 18, 19, 20, 21, and 22. In a micht'é predominantly katharevousa we would, of course, expect this. It is even common in the demotic.1 But where possible, Papadhiamandis distinguishes his choice of the katharevousa through verb endings or other morphology. For example, #16, OEEUDE from the archaic flEFSUMO instead of the more modern 565003 or 50.5000 ; number 8 ¥ 1See Triandaphyllides, MIME” , section 649. 32 H H €Y€LV€ instead of éYLve ; O ending for number 1, 5, l3; and the numerous final " \)"s establishing the katharevousa. In considering the compound verbs ‘(GOVSSTCL pfiuata) “ there are several examples, within the same one hundred lines, of augment preceding the preposition: TABLE 20 Augment Preceding the Preposition Translation Word (past tense of) Location (page/line) énoogéve l. cause 1951/5» énpoéwnev betray 194/42 énpoonéoaoow 133% before 194/99 In other instances, Papadhiamandis uses internal augment (écxorexatnfi afignon); TABLE 21 Internal Augment Translation Word (Past tense of) Location (page/line) {maulJLSl'JpLQe Whisper 193/22 ('méutnoe make 193/31 dnéurnoow make 193/38 énégn live 194/5 GLETOmwve formulate 194/7 UETééLée transmit 194/41 33 In temporal augment (xpovtm'j GOEnon) Papadhiamandis demon- strates similar characteristics--a mixing of systems-~as he does for syllabic augment. On the one hand, there are only rare instances of demotic terms, but where Papadhiamandis may neglect temporal augment, the morphology of the word or its ending is usually katharevousa as is the case in syllabic augment. TABLE 22 Temporal Augment Translation Location Word (with augment) (past tense of) (page/line) fiofidvfinoow feel 194/ 83 (bvouooev name 195/ 50 e toydtero work 195/58 fiproav start 198/59 fiYDOTLVEL to keep awake 198/88 GJuLAoOoe talk 199/14 (without augment) sfiptonero find 193/21 ebpflouero find 195/69 eiSpev find 197/24 But there often appear inconsistencies in the morphology: (with augment) fiVOLEE: open 234/95 fluouoe hear 234/99 nfipe find 272/60 —‘“-——_—_—————————__———_—-——_—_-——— (without augment) dvoLgav open 234/53 duouow hear 371/ 59 8608 find 432/43 34 Papadhiamandis' use of the augment is not illustrative of a katharevousa/demotic michtE, but rather a michte, so to speak of the katharevousa itself. Papadhiamandis' mixing and inconsistency of forms is open to criticism from both purist and demoticist alike. Octave Merlier, the French Papadhiamandis scholar and translator, may have been too uncritical in his praise concerning Papadhiamandis' use of the entire spectrum of the Greek language.1 I believe it is as much the mixing of puristic forms as the introduction of demotic forms which caused Balanos and others to call Papadhiamandian prose "unaesthetic."2 C. Participles: Passives in —- 11¢on Papadhiamandis' use of passive participles in --Lu5vog are usually in accordance with modern syntax, there is as adjectives or predicate adjectives, with or without the particle.3 His morphology, however, is mixed which constitutes for our purposes the distinguishing features between purist morphology and that of the modern vernacular. The katharevousa retains reduplication (sometimes augment); the demotic does not. Table 23 is a full tabulation by chapter of the passive participles in —- uévog from the narrative passages of The Murderess.4 1See Octave Merlier, "Alexandre Papadiamandis: Sa Vie et Son Oeuvre," Skiathos Ile Grecque (Paris: Societe D'Edition, "Les Belles- Lettres," 1934), p. 65. 2 See Balanos quotation, p. 5. 3 See Andre Mirambel, "Participe et gerondif en grec medieval et nmderne," Bulletin de la Societe de Linguistigue (Paris, 1961), Vol. 56. See also Triandaphyllides, Mtnefi sections 734-740. Does not include participles in ——dugvog’ --Ol')u€\)og, r-ouevog. 35 mmEou umumhma >0>m130P0 N3 .0 .A oo 35 389.0136. 338 32.. >539 xoap ommww 8”..on 25W? 3 >5: oa\wom vmmoau «(03.0103 96: HH\©©N @950“ Doawnbonoc Qoom wcfiamom uo>w104 09.0 «Emma vmwmwam >O>w3340>cmw @3me no menu?“ uo>w333&wdw® memm @6393 c>wnose3&3:dpox .5: SN 6:53 003138: 23m... 653:. >938ch 832 38 .2: 303135: 5 BS2 88.8... 8926.. 33mm 3 33mm vmwmuuanam >o>wnos Poe $32.. 83w 3961920: 83mm cm“ unwow d>wnm©0&3x0 @2qu cmaoum d>wnnwkx 33mm BB 96200 39mm 33253 00330.. 0309: 2.5 $32732 88.6.. 6808 a H: 83mm 5.3de 633898 SH emu mm 00>md3: .. 0: m3 3H emwflno c>wnoox>o>d mmmmmm aoewfinwom d>wnauoo>58 02 RH cofiw 961000 5 «33H 38533 o>wzoss§ 55 HH N303 vomoau 8330.. 0&x 303 330.5 c>w33x00> NQmmH Eon 563550» «AH—”:3 vwxoaauma mos/v.20 ._ Poxo wm\ «ma 33mm c>m33900x 233 80305 >0>wnbo .. o a 90:0 :33 3083 0046103150 mgqma count/“:30 IHHm3 UO?%3C>wa. K.&.U.x. mi «3 33mm 5330.. mos 3.23 33263 58332308: 232 .58 may: €63 axwxuao : m2 8338 :2 56:93 52:00.. a H .333 33.3 5333 ox H A05”: owmav dowumamamum. P33 you chwa \ owmnv a3 ”Hangman. whoa you dowumooa Imago coaumoog tango W0>wd II a.“ mmaafiofiuumm MN MAGSH 36 imam 0950.5 mph/mi»; >fi mtmqm Hmcowumuufi 5610.. >O&.DQ.U: mm\qu 03.0%: 5,010; O>w1 >609 0:qu vmgouw «(Os/«3;; 2: H\qu zwsounu 983 wd>w14fiDQP 0¢\.3m wmsmsuo udafiu 35.53» 02qu 0950.?» E61»; 43». 0082” 003 «63300 m~\wom um>o ucmn mo>w113xo mm\wom wmwmmm uo>mnadt0 @3qu 005:5 d>widdQH0w NEBSBSEHSAHE 532500 :20: 0: 028m 003000-30 >0>0100>0x0x 0: mmtom 000500 wo>w1009Q ram manom 005:.“ oinom 00003 396100 “tax :30: >c>wzad®941c Show. 002% >0>023000x SE :\ Sm 0053 >0>0100®90 HHS «Swen 00:08.0 >o>wncpdfi H; H; Emom 00:00:95 3030100 x0939 w\~om 09.3.25 >C>m13x 330m 00:00:95 203300 x6439 Tlaom manmowam d>wicfid>d 3mg 8.3m wo>w1wwowncm51 «in: 0085.0 395010.00 mwm 0033 000033 >c>wn>0wnsfiongd H> omDKN avg/cams d>w13w©dx mic? 0: 0320:; c>w3390u N303. 0:00.05: w30>w33>d&: > Comm 00300 95 13100.: :33 wmamxuman 3:50:00 0301 mtmom 30003 >o>wwavdnud oimom 00000.5 :33» ._ 030. qoqwom 0050000 >0>wdq£dmdm 2:33 0038 >3>w:3&t ._ o 5 03 wow .308 woo> @190 a 03x00 3 Amafiimwmav coaumamcmue 0.33 .30 Amcfiimwmav coaumamcmue 0.33 .80 defiumuoa Imago coaumooa Immnu vmsawucoollmm mama; 37 >8>w3>g>t oe\qu vmaaouv 3:3 :muuowuom d>wnc>010F§ ¢H\HT~ vmgouv O>w1>.. ct M\HB¢V @UUQQM DO?M1>UQQ mg? 3:93 a E62983 @550: SE 333 Ea “8w. 53:03:63: S; mmSmc vmwucwum C>w1064>w9 HQomq wmumumufiano d>wnbomo 3%? 833 551350 we}? 53 >o>wnogxo mm3mq vmuamm >O>wd>dae qume wmuEEIumo C>wflc>c>3xa<0fi Ntomq «mo Ham MDO>WHMWMHWHWM NN\¢M¢ UHHdfi «zoa/inJ PX ©N\©m¢ Umxfia U0?w33.fidfiqd 23$ 82:3 531339 :x 3:3 383 . Ex 3qu 83w Do>w306<0x mawoq uamwmam u®o>wnoawanfix ~2qu Ema :33; w: mama.» wHHucmouma m30>w303w00fi1w :qu wmcofiEwE dim?» cmEOumsuom c>w104®4w>30 Imuowm 49615: w ¢m\moq 958mm u0>wdogic9 mace.» vmumufiwm C>w2>dePwP mime.» F33 £33149. no}? “.5585 @0334 wxatw 333 87.55 >033..on wig” 3m: 8333 E63 m: 022m @2593 >035» J «E Q .332“ vmuawfiumaxm 56:69 85: Q 233 Bammaufimn 933503 3:? BESS 56:».3: flw\Hhm UNUWDH Aux/@106.- 030:0 3:5 338 C>w33>de NwZKM umbwom—u C>w106®9 GN\HNM UQUn—QM ?O>w:>609 SB? 888 85389 x x AmGHQmwmav coaumamamuh v.33 Hmu Ama:\mwm3 coaumamcmum. v.33 umu aowumuog I925 coaumooq Immno mmsafiuaoounmm mgmw33501dd mtmmm wmumamaoo 0303356.. @39w «0:3 cmwumaaw >O>micwoc wflamm wmwcoaoum mao>wddwwpdadfi SE? was?“ ud>wnad®9 22% 3:35p c>wnnda>w>oou qgwmm mmmHSummun C>m16008&>wm £me 3me c>w13o>wnw>oEont 83mm .3330: d>m104fl455 mmhmm wafixuoa c>w19§w> H>x 33mm @3305 c>wn&._§0fiwb H>x $on matwmavvzc C>wJOdJQda30x wm\wmm mmmammlmamn C>w104140XOOJ1 ©N\mNm dmuuowuom >O?wic?OJOr—K mgmom umma >o>w3060wfl miaom wwwumanam C>w10403m wioom vmwcfim Do>wfioifioadx 830m 338:8 56:9 >923 om\m¢.~ mmmanummua C>m36003&>ww nw\mm¢ @3358 ow\mmq mmmacummun 5610.04 >dxd& >N lucmmnm C>mncacefi >x mama.» 8:35” uo>wdbam>fi1w mtmmq gov m5: >C>w13§howw £$$ 383 388 8339 @3850: $3.3 2.3 IQUHGDEEOUCfi ?O>@1KUPDU>30 mw\wmq 33.83 >O>w104PO> HQmmq cmfiuumsw 40>wdcaum m@\wmq @wUHOm C>w33&H—g© ow\wm¢ Umfiuumuumuflo >C?015Pwu. «gm?» umHuHBu >O>m1CQPO wtwmq vmummm >C>w1C®dx «2mm.» wing «6330.. 9: 3x :3? 56¢ waaa 3:61.. mxdpdx 3x m\~mq wmnmfiswafiuxm Imam: 561039504: 3:3 vmuasm: wo>w33J 33090 O©\HN¢ HNCOHUNHHH Cazwfipo; >O.&.UQ.UH_. 3:3 @598: wo>w2063w0x 8:: $268 83:9:ch . 3:3 3% 83203:? SE SE Amawimwmmv cowumamamue @903 “mu AmcHQmwmav aofiumflmamue v.83 umu coaumuoq Immno coaumooq Lamao cosafiuaooaumm mqmo&600m® >315de§ «636.5842. "833335. v mcx4>c<0§Bw>cmam.>ox._96Q>O@QO.>.0wz m. .moxmuumawn .0 ca vcsom mmfiuuam mo mwmwn mnu co huommumo m>Huomammu Hfimnu wwsmfimmm cmmn m>mn maumea 229. ram: 5334855 new 32mm 833 5353 SE Amaaa\mwwav coaumamamua whoa Hmu Awawa\mwmmv cowumamamuy vu03_ umu coaumuoq Iamso cOfiumuog Imago wwsawufiOUIlmN mam<fi 40 The analysis shows a text rich in the use of participles. In -- liévcm;there are over 160 instances (see Table 24), only one-third of TABLE 24 Proportion of Demotic/Katharevousa Participles in -- uévog Demotic Katharevousa Total Frequency 107 54 161 2 66.5% 33.5% 100.0% which are repeated (see distribution Tables 25 and 26). The mix is similar to that found for the Subjunctive Aorists, favoring the demotic two to one: 66.5 percent demotic, 33.5 percent katharevousa. One- third of the terms with archaic reduplication or augment is considerable and substantiates a claim of "no deliberate choice." The listings by chapter provide a composite picture of how the michté is distributed throughout the text--sometimes evenly woven, sometimes alternating by chapter. It should be noted, however, that though many words fall into the demotic column for lack of reduplication or augmentation, Papadhiamandis formalizes many of them by the addition of final " " or other archaic ending. This tends to neutralize the effect on the prose of any statistical dominance of the demotic. What we see here, as elsewhere, is the maintenance of a puristic style despite the intro— duction of considerable demotic morphology. 41 TABLE 25 Distribution of Katharevousa Participles in -—‘uéxugg Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One Word Translation Frequency Percent at uarwuévn bloody 5 9 . 3 M0 Luwuévng asleep 4 7 . 4 usuauououéva far off 2 3 . 7 €5,on Louévo L enraged 2 3 . 7 uafinuévnv seated 2 3 . 7 ’45 LuéV'fl ‘ situated (lay) _2 3.7 Sub-total 17 31.5 All Others (Frequence of l) 31_ 68.5 Grand Total 54 100.0% TABLE 26 Distribution of Demotic Participles in —- Luévog Frequency of Occurrence Exceeding One Word Translation Frequency Percent Tw LYuévn drowned 5 4 . 7 cppayuévog fenced 3 2 . 7 MM: Louévov closed 3 2 . 7 5Lnkwuévmv folded 3 2. 7 Tultyuéva wrapped 3 2 . 7 xaée uuéva beloved 2 1 . 9 Eeykmooauévn breathless 2 1 . 9 urLouévov built 2 1.9 narnuévov crush 2 l . 9 (onuLouévog famous 2 1. 9 ('1ch Louévog foaming 2 1. 9 uolaouévou glued 2 1 . 9 cpuAau Louévou imprisoned 2 l. 9 naoakoy Louévn irrational 2 1 . 9 éeuévo. tied 2 1. 9 010 Luévov twirled 2 1. 9 MGM L emnuévog well-cultivated _2 1 . 9 Sub-total 41 38.3 All Others (Frequency of 1) 66_ 61.7 Grand Total 107 100.01 VOCABULARY Among the diagnostic features of Browning's chart which separates elements of the katharevousa from the demotic is a list of vocabulary words "sufficient to identify the language of a sample text." Below is the complete listing from page 118 of Medieval and Modern Greek: TABLE 27 K D etc évag uéyag ueydlog txfiég odor ntnvév nooAt 'bird' numv onukog, OMUAC 'dog' boroOv nounaAo 'bone' éwfiaAuég udTL 'eye' big 1161-11 'nose' finap ooucbr l. ' liver' toraual. oréuouont 'stand' flown veoo 'water' 1100 (Don LdL 'fire' éoufipég noun Lvog 'red' {Bepuég £80169 'hot' dang (pfiét 'snake' dvfiog AOUAOOéL ' flower' navvuw nay o'ww ' freeze ' uénrm 1(on 'cut ' nAnotov novrd 'near' (1)361) onpcbwi ' push ‘ b C firm 0 l', wi ' throw' écwoaivouat. uupt’. gouaL ' smell' 51309., 621410169, xpévog 'year' 5LC5TL‘ YLGTC 'because' ¥ 42 43 A similar list (in many instances comprising the same words) has been compiled (Table 28) from the narrative passages of The Murderess to illustrate the michte quality of Papadhiamandis' vocabulary. Examination of Table 28 indicates that (a) many words are used both in the katharevousa and demotic forms; (b) some vocabulary is used only in the katharevousa; and (c) some vacabulary is used only in the demotic. In many instances, where words appear in both forms, Papadhiamandis alternates the katharevousa with the demotic apparently for lexical variety. For example, in paragraph one, Chapter I, HCfifUi and 1IAJK3(O\, "near" are used alternately which avoids repetition (see p. 193/1 and 6); in paragraph two of the same chapter, 500M”: and M~013TOOUDOV "log" are used in the same fashion (see lines 15 and 16). These choices seem to be based on an aesthetic principle, though the jLuctaposition of the katharevousa with the demotic was itself considered "unaesthetic . " On the other hand, much of the usage appears without deliberate Choicma as we might expect from a text using all the options--(a), (b), and (t:)--above. Upon examination of the text itself, we find much the Same Itind of random selection as we saw in previous studies. For example, in a situation where we might expect a pairing of forms, we find jllSt:the opposite: ‘O narfig rng firov otuovouog not so- YGTLMOQ not mooVLuog. ‘H udva tng fitov noun, Bkdownuog not wfiovepd.* 194/18-20 *Italics mine .A ....~ -:~:.:.> «#N n.~.~—~ <.~. 44 .cowumuumSHHH wow wouao oocmumaw moo xacos .mmsmomn. \MP64M\ 3.040 ¢N\mom .uofi. \WOPDwM\ C30w® mw\mmq .eoEoeoa m. @923 woo .. so £32 .3125. u\...©...M\ Amcwucoaummv meoowooso atoom .33. >853 I owe 333 SR? .woo. moo/3.6 3395 oimmfl .moa . «60300900.: “.9380 333 .3th .umm. flowed l 6W8 02mg 82%.. .EB. ooéoo: Bax/£5 2:3 .283. 339 63o :2: «when 28o. 328 >3: Coma «NR? .22.. 63:: nodes 8:? ow\mom .owuma. CKfirwi d>w3 2:2” 332 Lemma? E 83: .6369 323 3:2 .93. So: mooaaooso H33 .322“ zooms. oooo> Q33 RE? 9: RN .uofioa. 96: 3mg 33305. 803:: 65c: 33$ 33mm .28. 903.. Mum memm 3:: .332. .. 5:0 £223 6,. 2:8 33 .50 35.: 3mg . noon. mops/ox >Ou0C§e 3mg Aoafia\owmav coaumooq «AocHH\owmmV coaumooa a M unmasnmuo> llll'l'fl mm mqmflw .f.LJ .3 u . o . n . .. o .c C. .C o .. .. ‘ . nJ. a... J. Wu .. . ~A .11 .J R >. fig .1» v . a . C.» «l;- I h 1'; -\J #4.; :u L» I. .C :3 . . y C. “up; » ( .c o.4 n1v ;~ .i .V r‘ o A.» C. a .. Flu. and rua f4} (s14 A.) r. t E a v v & u . Q It I! e n a If. «b 45 Use of the word "mother" in Chapter I with its three forms -- ufirnp , un-cépo, , and udwa -- illustrates the random pattern of appearance of this word throughout the text as well as the pattern for most words which appear in their dual forms (see Table 29), especially the more frequently used vocabulary-- erg /§vc1§ "one"; oiufiav/cmfirt "house"; (poe'ap/Tmydét "well": TABLE 2 9 Phrases with Word "Mother" (Chapter I) No. of Location Lines (page/line) Later Phrase *(Italics mine) 193/8 rfiv Entéga r06 ndoxovrog Bpécpoug. . . 193/41 33 ‘H gnu-Egon 100 ere Mdun BQDELd Aexwofia” 194/19 29 ‘H MSW—C1 rng firov uomrfi, . 194/55 36 1‘1 m Tfig (Doayuoy Lowvofig. 194/90 35 1‘1 Em tfig onueptvfig powquLowvoUg . . i95/33 43 rd buota étnyetro dvéreoa f1 £6319 Tng . . . The number of lines separating the repetitions of the word "mOther" (see Table 29) average 35--a distance sufficient to preclude any assumption that alternate forms are used for variety's sake. Use of the three forms in the same text constitutes a kind of "double" %. Mnrépa and udvo. are demotic words, the former a more formal term than the latter; ufirnp is ancient Greek. If one were to examine the prose of The Murderess solely on the basis of Browning's diagnostic vocabulary list, it would indeed be difficult determining 46 the "identity of the language.” Such is the nature of Papadhiamandis' miChtE--perhaps a more important third possibility than Browning and others have allowed. VI. SUMMARY The foregoing analyses confirm the assertion that Papadhiamandis' prose is of a nature best defined by its own characteristics. That is, it is not a michte in the sense of the purist language making conces- sions when necessary to the vernacular tongue. It is rather a michte of random selection. On the one hand, the selection of the demotic elements are of a magnitude which render a description of the prose as "puristic" inaccurate. On the other hand, the prose maintains a purist cast and the introduction of the demotic, which in some areas is overwhelming statistically, never changes the character of the writing sufficiently as to be described as "demotic." 47 VII. CONCLUSION A. The Nature, Style and Aesthetics of Papadhiamandian Prose Definitions Andre Mirambel, in his essay Les "Etats De Langue" Dans La Grece Actuelle, distinguishes and defines five "états" of the language in use in Greece (1937) which refines into a workable spectrum the crude designations "katharevousa” and "demotic." These he lists 1 as: la langue savant ou nafiapeuoooa _/_katharevousa7 20 la langue E13332 ou HLMTT‘] (utxtfi) _/_-'Tmixed:_'_7 30 la langue couramment parlée ou Maaoutlouuévn outlouuévn Ikathomilomneni? 40 la langue demotique ou énturttufi 50 la langue désignee familérement par le terme uaAALqpfi ou ultra-demotique. lmalliari7 (1) The Mafiapedouoa katharevousa or "langue savante,’ notes Mirambel, avoids all forms, syntax, and vocabulary which in its eyes is not "pure Greek" and which is not consecrated by the tradition of ancient writing. It is rich in adjectives and abstract nouns; contains rigid formulae; lends itself to subordination; easily expresses foreign words and phrases through the formation of calques. The katharevousa functions as the official language of the State, the army, the school, HMirambel, "Les Etats," p. 21. 48 1].... ”undue“... tr: . .. .7!- llfl: $4... 49 and the Church. Those who are versed in the katharevousa are considered cultured and "educated." (2) Thejltulnfi "mixte" or "mixed" language is in structure similar to the katharevousa but makes some concessions to the living language, even avoids extreme archaisms. Where there are no equivalents in the katharevousa, it accepts terms of the spoken language without change. Though it is a tentative conciliation between the two extremes, it introduces into an established structure, elements of a structure "evoluée." Thus it juxtaposes heterogeneous forms. It is both a spoken and written language: written by those who believe in making conces- sions to the demotic; spoken sometimes out of necessity. (3) The Mafioutkouuévn or "daily tongue," referred to as kathomiloumeni, unlike the first two is a language with a demotic structure, though it contains elements from the katharevousa. The major part of its vocabulary is demotic, but it rejects some neologisms and modern innovations. For example, it prefers the prepositional construction 6 OTIO'COQ , "who" to the demotic TtOL') . In spoken forms it uses demotic endings, but for technical and abstract terms, it retains purist morphology. The kathomiloumeni easily adopts elements of the katharevousa into its structure in the belief that each thought must be expressed in its mode, homogeniety notwithstanding. It is the language of the middle class and of Athenian society. (4) The 50110133”) or "demotic" is the form of the Greek language today, the result of a natural evolution. This evolution has resulted in: the reduction of the number of cases, substituted by the use of prepositions; the elimination of certain moods accompanied by 50 the development of periphrastic verb forms; the unification of nominal flexion; the appearance of nominal and adjectival suffixes especially those of foreign origin-- -dtog, -dL1:Lno, -L'too., -d6a, -o'L6Luo, "TEIH; ; the ability to form compound subordinating conjunctions. It is a language capable of extension, enrichment and development. It is the monther tongue of all Greeks of all classes. (5) uakktaofi . This term (literally "hairy") is a derisive name given by the purists to the attempt by grammarians to systematize the demotic language. Where several forms exist in the demotic where one might hesitate, the malliarists would search for a unifying system for choosing one form over another. There were attempts to render the demotic a service through the reform of orthography which still pre- sents inconsistencies: one writes népnxp "I take" but also TKICOVM); gépw "I know" but also gat'poo . One writes Makfitepog "better" and also KaAO‘tepog , or nakkfi'repog . The malliarists became the object of criticism even by the partisans of the demotic language, above all in matters of vocabulary. However, the principles to which they adhered had foundation: the necessity for the living language to have unity; a refusal to make concessions to the purist language; and finally, a systemization of the demotic language. B. The Nature, Style, and Aesthetics of Papadhiamandis' Michté Papadhiamandis' early novels as we have pointed out, are written ill what has been described as a "pure" katharevousa. With the intro- dtuztion of demotic elements into the later short stories and novels, the wuxiting becomes a michte, the nature of which is not congruent with the 51 description of the michte as a compromise. On the contrary, rather than moving toward a "tentative conciliation" between extremes, Papadhiamandis' prose seems to fit more Browning's description of medieval texts of chronicles and tales as being "mixtures of living speech and dead tradition."l Papadhiamandis not only does not avoid "extreme archaisms," he often uses Old Testament, Psalm or Troparia as integral language of the text. For example, the passage below is a narrative detail from Chapter One of The Murderess, which is language from Psalm 132, (133): ,, , oeo efxe fiéOEL finvov etc 106g 6m3alu069 Inc, oOéé etc to Blemaod rng vuorayuév,. . . 193/52; 194/1 . . . she gave not sleep to her eyes nor slumber to her eyelids. The instances of demotic, which are quite extensive, are, for the most part, not "concessions" to the demotic in the usual sense-~used because katharevousa forms are not available. On the contrary, the demotic forms as we have seen in the analyses are rather unstable--soon replaced by corresponding puristic forms often as early as the same paragraph. Sometimes these replacements appear as a case change-- nominative and accusative change to the genitive (see analysis of -L / 'Lov neuter nouns and comparison charts for 080110. / Déuuo. ). Often demotic vocabulary switches back to formal language. These changes constitute,in a sense, a kind of concession in reverse—-a concession back to the demands of the katharevousa. 1Browning, Medieval and Modern Greek, p. 14. Ala. r! ...... . .rr... .a,.a..u. ’5‘ JIM-‘1‘ a . mu..| 52 In fact, there is an interesting stableness and consistency about Papadhiamandis' michté which critics seem not to have noticed: the evenness as to the proportion of katharevousa to demotic through- out the text. No single paragraph or section of the narrative (excluding dialogue, of course) "degenerates" so to speak into the demotic. If there is a principle at work behind what appears to be a random introduction of demotic in the prose, it must be an overriding sense of never allowing the writing to become too demoticized. This is why I believe Valeta and others were wrong in believing that for Papadhiamandis "only one step was necessary for him . . . to arrive at the demotic." There is another device, that of setting off demotic words, phrases, or expressions in quotation marks, which is an integral part of the Papadhiamandian michté. It provides him with the easiest and perhaps most "rational" solution for making concessions to the demotic. Moreover, this device throws additional light on the fact that Papadhiamandis insists, even in his most mature work, on stating facts and details of narration first in the katharevousa. The first para- graph of The Murderess provides us with an example: . . . rfiv nemakfiv duouufimoa etg to updoneoov rfig tortag, to Aeyouevov "mouvonééapo" . . . 193/2-4 . . . her head leaning against the border of the hearth, called the "fougopodharo, . . . On the other hand, Papadhiamandis' use of this device is illustrative of his need to express matters as common folk " O M169 " would express 53 " one might say, in spirit-- them. In this way, he was "malliarist, . . . . 1 exh1bit1ng the de81re to preserve the nat1ve language. Since Papadhiamandis' michte is basically katharevousa, its style is largely determined by the characteristics of that structure. In "Remarques Sur Le Style Et L'Esthetique De La Langue," which is Chapter VII of Andre Mirambel's study La Langue Grecque Moderne,2 Mirambel uses Papadhiamandis' prose to illustrate significant struc- tural differences between the purist and demotic languages which necessarily cause divergences in style between the two. The quotation below is cited for its enumeration of these structural differences as well as for a comparison later of the early and late styles of Papadhiamandian prose: l. Dans la mesure, en effet, oh grec demotique et grec puriste offrent des structures divergentes, 1e style (ou les styles) de la langue ecrite, si elle est savante, n 'offre guere defpgints communs avec celui d3 la langue parlée. Voici, par exemple, sur un sujet analogue deux textes qui montrent comment deux écrivains dont l'un est vulgariste, l'autre puriste, sont amenés a des precedes d'expression différents étant donnes les états de langue qu'ils utilisent. Le premier texte appartient a un conte de Drosinis ('H 6.011an népnp. 77) : ‘H HOOD T719 0 dounun slxe ytvEL h ouopmoreon noon 106 uéouou! To uaAALd Tng énemrav ortg flAdTEQ rng odv awaken wuévo xpoodwt, fi own rng firav okoéooon not poéouo uuLvn, rd.x€LAn xmpfigcvrov us ykuuo xquoyeA£>- " 58 fille laide etait devenue la plus belle fille du monde I Ses cheveux tombaient sur ses epaules comme une poussiere d' or, son visage etait tout frais et tout rose, ses levres l The Malliarists, especially Nikos Kazantzakis, deliberately collected words from the villages and the islands and included them in their writings with the aim of preserving them. (See Bien, Kazantzakis and the Linguistic Revolution in Greek Literature, especially Part Two, "The Demoticism of Kazantzakis.") 2 André'Mirambel, La Langue Grecque Moderne: Description Et Analyse (Société Linguistique De Paris: Paris, 1959), pp. 426-27. 54 I I s'ecartalent d'un doux sour1re...". Vo1c1 ma1ntenant le debut d'un roman de Papadiamantis,0i€unOpOL TEN éSVC’N (p.7-8): 'Ev €T€L omrnpfim 11%9066etg uafi'olov to Aiyatov nékayog elxev moatorépav ooguyov rfig roU'Imdv- vou Mouxoa, nAooofiou sOnatpfiéou KQTOLMOOVTOQ év ngm... ‘H ouguyog IOU» mpaio.uoi éfimo.dg HEDLOTEqu firo to oéuumwa‘rfig otnfiag. 'Apxouoa éwoeudéog Sepanatvfiéwv Bteuauvs moor- iuwg rd r00 otuou "En l'an de grace 1199 personne dans toute la mer Egee n'avait d'epouse plus belle que Jean Moukhras, riche noble résidant 5 Naxos... Son épouse, belle et innocent comme une colombe, etait l'orgueil de la demeure. Commandant a une douzaine de servantes, elle gérait sagement les affaires de la maison". Laissons de Cate les divergences portant sur les formes et le lixique. Il reste que le texte savant contient des formules "officielles" du type év éTSL Gmeofio "en l'an de grace", que la langue demotique littéraire évite. De plus, le texte savant fait grand usage des participes pre'sents (naTOLuofivTOQ"résidant", dpxouoa "commandant"), mais limite les adjectifs ; au lieu de la construction “Cd. 1:06 OCMOU "les affaires de la maison", la langue demotique utiliserait un adjectif ( I'd. OTLLTLMO. ). Le texte savant, le plus long, n 'est compose que de trois propositions, ce que permet l' usage des participes tenant lieu de subordonnees. La langue demotique, au lieu de rechercher 1a subordination systematique, juxtapose les enonces propositionnels (n noon elxs yivEL...,Td uaAALd rng énsmrav ...,n own Ins firm) rd xeflkn xmofiiovrow ...). Pour exprimer 1a comparison, le texte savant se borne 21 (1)9 nepLOTEQd"comme une colombe :, tandis que 1e texte demotique, au lieu de dire seulement cow xpLocich "comme de 1' or" dit adv dvaAELmuévo xpuodcpl. "comme de 1' or en poussiere, fondu' . Enfin, dans le choix des epithetes, si la langue savante n 'utilise ici que les mots (bnaia ("belle") drama ("innocence") nkouofiou ("riche"), qui n 'ont pas d'expressivite particuliere, la langue demotique se sert de 016500071 ("toute fraiche") et OOSOKCSWKLV'O ("rouge comme une rose"), adjectifs composes, dont 1e second, en particulier, fait image. In summary, Mirambel points out the following: katharevousa (2(311tains "official"formulaic expressions which the demotic avoids; deBends heavily upon present participles, not adjectives; uses other (:(3thstructions (especially the prepositional phrase) in place of adjectives; tends toward series of subordinate participial phrases as c)13I303ed to the demotic's simple or coordinate constructions; lacks the particularly expressive ability of the demotic to compound adjectives. 55 Mirambel's choice of the opening of Papadhiamandis' novel, The Merchants of Nations (0L 7EU-TIODOL' TCDV 7E8vwv)is useful to us not on 13' for the stylistics of the katharevousa but also as a means of evaluating the demotic elements in The Murderess. The Merchants of Nations was published in installments in the periodical, Me Hanesai ("M75 xdvgoac'), between November 5, 1882 and February 8, 1883. It was written a year before The Little Gypsyl ( " H Fumronoula) in a ”pure" katharevousa. Valeta states that _T_h£ Merchants of Nations characterizes and delimits the first period of Pap adhiamandis' writing. Below, for purposes of comparison, is the opening paragraph 0 f lhe Murderess: MLoonAaYLaouévn novrd Sig rhv éorfiav, ué omaltotd Id ouuara, rfiv uemakfiv duouufimoa eig to updoneoov rfig toting, to Aeyouevov "mouyo— noéapo", fi GSLd Xaéoula, h MOLvag uaAouuévn PLavvoO h @pdyutooa, 66v éMOLudro, dAA' éSuoC— age tbv Unvov nknofiov etg to Atuvov rfig doSev- oéong utuofig éyyovfig Inc. 'Ooov Std rfiv Aexm, rfiv unréoa r00 ndoxovrog Bpémoug, corn moo olfiyou erev dHOKOLunSfi ént rfig xSauaAfig HEVLx- Dag ulfivng rug. 193/1-10 We can immediately see that the basic style and structure of the katharevousa twenty years later in the mature period of Papadhiamandis' writing is still very much. intact. Note the "Officielle" formula RONNIE uakouuévn "commonly called"; the repetitive puristic " €139" for the prepositions "in," "at," and "upon": \ 1See p. 6. 2 . . Papadhlamandls, Td 'Anowm, I, p.476. 56 6119, rflv éorfiow "at the hearth," etg To updoneoov "upon the border," Sig To Afiuvov "at the crib." The long first sentence is a series of subordinate constructions with the predicate éév énOLuc'iTO (not sleeping) appearing near the end. Participles abound: LHAJO' Inlay Laouévn ("curled up"); 6010111186600. ("1eaning");lev- Ouévov ("called"); Makouuévn ("called"), etc. The adjectives which appear--utupc'ig ("small"); xfiaualfig ("low"); and HSVprc’iQ ("poor")-—are not the "particularly expressive" type found in the demotic. As for the demotic in the prose, the structure remains unchanged. For the most part, the demotic elements are word substitutions or form substitutions-~not the structural changes which transform a puristic text into a modern one. Below, for illustration, is a paragraph which ends Chapter XI: ‘H ypata egonvnoev évrpouog, dyeerdxan oAn. 'Aveonnéfin uafi fiofidvero uéyav onepayuév, 611d ouvxpovmg not uaAALréoav owuartnfiv dVEOLv. ‘O 06vrouog éustvog Unvog efxev egaket¢8L nap' aurfi to veuoonafiéé not to dvfiouxov. 'Ewnldmnoev, 8608 Id onfipra, fivawe to unpflov, énfioe to paBéfi rng, to uaAdSL Inc, éBaAe uéoa etc obto not tag équéag rng, not dvunooorn, ué the udAroeg, eut- vnoe yd muyn. 432/38—47 The old woman woke up terrified, shuddering all over. She got up feeling great heartbreak, but at the same time, more physically rested. That short sleep had washed away from her the nervousness and anxiety. She groped, found the matches, and lit the candle, took her staff, her basket, put her shoes inside it, and un- shod, in stocking feet, she started to leave. 57 For "old woman" Ypai’o. Papadhiamandis keeps the ancient morphology as opposed to the current yptd ; similarly for "' candle" nnpiov instead of kept: . But demotic 00.8611 " S taff" and nakdal. "basket" might just as easily have been 0055COV and naAdSLOV . Nouns of foreign origin here-- CTICpTO. "matches" and udk'roeg "stockings" (words of Italian derivation)-—are considered demotic; but for "shoes" instead of the commonly used Turkish word TIQROOTOLO. , Papadhiamandis returns to the ancient language with équéag from équoov "on foot." While most writers of the time were seeking to "purify" their prose, and while this micht'e' does not perhaps represent the kind of aesthetic solution which became generally accepted and defined, it does represent one writer's experiment toward that solution however difficult it may be to reconcile it with preconceived notions of what c-‘-<:)nstitutes an aesthetic style. That Papadhiamandis moved from juxta- pOSing strict katharevousa in the description with colloquial expression in the dialogue to a michté in the description, indicates, I believe, tIla—1t he sought somehow to soften the contrast. Admittedly, the hap- 1'IEIZard manner, as illustrated above, would not satisfy the purists, especially at a time when the nature and future of the Greek language Was such a burning issue. Now, however, more than sixty-five years have passed since PaPadhiamandis' death, and the passage of time permits a more objective appraisal regarding the aesthetics of his prose. It can now be judged on its own terms without the prejudice of "Language Question" allegiances. 58 Papadhiamandis' style must be evaluated as to the success of it: s purpose. It is insufficient to say, as does Balanos, that "he writes LPapadhiamandfs—f in the katharevousa, sometimes in the demotic, mo re often, however, in a very unaesthetic, for me at least, manner. In examining the prose of The Murderess, I find not only a master story-teller, but a writer in command of his language, however "mixed." There is in the Papadhiamandian style that uniqueness and power of expression which only great writers impose on the structures within which they are confined. The fact that Papadhiamandis' choices between katharevousa and demotic forms appear statistically random says nothing about the power of the words themselves to evoke and express what is intended. Why is it that throughout the criticism there is I'lOthing but great praise for The Murderess, for example, while the ME. receives such cool reception? It can only mean that the michté does not destroy the "illusion" necessary to all great art. It means f‘n‘lrther that the style cannot be evaluated properly if forced to conform to arbitrary definitions. In appraising the aesthetics of Papadhiamandis' prose, it may be Well to remind ourselves that Papadhiamandis was also a poet whose Collected poems number close to fifty, for his prose, it seems to me, cot‘ltains many of the elements we associate with poetry: rhythmic line Supported by alliteration; synthesis of the physical environment with the emotional state of someone; and philosophic comment. The Murderess, in Particular, offers many examples of these. First there is the characteristically long descriptive sentence w . . . . 1th a sweep and rhythm1c movement all 1ts own wh1ch carr1es the reader along over beautiful terrain: 59 Tfiv fiuéoav Aounbv éueivnv, rfig éBéoudéog rév Batwv, émaaoev fi ooayuoytavvofi Afiav nomt Sig rfiv nooumfiv IOU bwnkofi nerpéooug Aomou, T06 dvrtnnugovrog én Boouév Tfiv nolfixvnv, not onéfisv uekayxoltuov nfinret to Bléuua ént TOO uLuoofi uOLuntnpfiou, dnAouuévou ndrw, ént own— Afig Sakaooonlfiurou Amoiéog yfig, ué rd Aeuud uvfiuara, not sOBbg medyet Cntofiv matépornra not Qmfiv etc rd yalavd nuuara, etc rev sOobv TanAoOv ALuéva, not etc oneod, xapfievra vnofiéta, rd mpdrovra Tofirov ég dvorokmv Hat neonuBofias- 305/96 - 306/6 Well, that morning, during Holy Week, Frangoyannou arrived very early at the peak of the high rocky hill, west of the town, and from there, melancholic falls the gaze on the small cemetery, spread out below, upon the high sea-battered strip of land, with white tomb- stones, and directly leaves, seeking cheerfulness and life in the blue waves, in the wide triple port, and in the verdant, charming islands fencing it from the east and south. Papadhiamandis takes us up high-—T1'W MODUCDT'IV T06. . .Aécpou "the peak of the . . . hill," and from there directs our gaze Mil-'0) "down" which Efiabg (DEI'WEL "directly leaves" for the islands in the <111£3tance. Note how the momentum gathers speed by the repetitive strong grade vowels 00 and C; : r06 bwnlofi meromooug Aomou. . . I06 utnpofi MOLunranou dulouuévou . . . MAR. rd valavd uuuara . . . Atuéva . . . Td xkosod, xaofievra vnofiota, Id wéarrovra . . . uln. Here is another long descriptive sentence from the same chapter w‘ 1311 the movement in the opposite direction: 60 . . . To Adlov, dofiynrov uekdénua tmv noo- oumov dvrfixet douOVLnov Big to édoog, to nepLOTémov olnv rfiv ourtufiv MALTOV, not dv- éonov etc rfiv uopumfiv T06 'Avayuoou, éwg Ifiv 'Aerommktdv énde --onou éléyerog ort etc So- Aaooaerég elxe uat0LnfioeL ént rpe&;ysvsdg dy- apmnwv éuet, not télog éEéALns xwptg v' dmfion deronouka. 306/81-88 The warbling, the incessant chirping of blackbirds echoes harmoniously in the forest, surrounding all the western slope, and glides up to the summit of Anargyros, until the Eaglenest above-—where is said one sea-eagle had lived for three generations of men and at the end, left without leaving eagle-fledgings. Note the lovely alliterated liquid " A"s : Tb Aélov, dOLYnTOV 11810.5an "the warbling, incessant chirping." Here also :E’Erpadhiamandis uses the katharevousa final "'0 " to great alliterative advantage as he does through much of this prose: élnv Tr'w 601' Lur'w 1t)\trflv, Mat dvépnov etc rfiv uopumfiv . . . MAR. Note also repetitive sibilant "o ": dOfiYnTOV . . . uoooétpwv - . . etc to 6doog, to neptorémov . . . It has been said of Papadhiamandis (especially in The I"’Iu‘r'deress), that he is a master of welding together--atmosphere, 1andscape, and the psychological state of his characters. " lGreek poet and Papadhiamandis critic, G. Vlahoyannis writes: Aéi for . . . the aesthetics of the work [The Murderesgf . . . the tc’POlogical accuracy is joined to the psychological by Papadhiamandis ' . - as if both conceptions were one inseparably fit together . "fl“?re the landscape becomes one with the psychic state of the heroine.” 8' Vlahoyannis,"'Evag dyooupog yuvatuetog vouog not f1 oovoooa T06 HanaéLaudwrn," Nea Hestia RI’r (1938), 9-12. 61 Below is an example--again, a very long sentence comprising the entire Iauza:xagraph. In the story, Hadula Frangoyannou, now a fugitive from the ];p<:> lice, exhausted after days and nights of wandering from place to 13:21.13ce in the mountains where she has fled, comes to a deep, thickly- ff<:>jliaged water hole and crawls down to it for a bit of shelter and 1E’é3:5t. Day is breaking, and Papadhiamandis describes the sunrise and :i.t::3 transformation of both her hiding place and her spirit: Mia durtg Sepufi, épxouévn uauodv, duo to mksyouevov néAayog, 6Lé0xL§e rfiv nuuvfiv muAAdéa uat 10v ML000v rov neoLOMénovra To aoquv Tfig Takatnépou vpafiag, not éuauavs vd 0tfiABm mg nkfifiog uanayaerav fi 500009 fi nomtvfi, fi BOéXOUOQ rov nlouctov Ouapdyétvov nénlov, n’ émoydéeuev 010v To ptyog tfig uypaciag, not 010v to upéog 106 @6800 ICC nelLévofi, méoouca nooonatpov élnfiéa not Bdlnog. 435/85-94 One warm ray, coming from afar, from the flaming sea, penetrated the thick foliage and ivy covering of the tormented woman's refuge, causing the morning dew, the drenching of rich emerald peplum, to glisten like lots of pearls, and all the shiver of dampness and all the cold of livid fear fled, bringing, for the time being, hope and encouragement. In The Murderess, there are many such memorable passages--in tZFHe caves, on the cliffs, in the mountains, by the sea coves--where ‘ttua panic, fright, despair and sometimes hope of Frangoyannou are all intensified by the physical surroundings. Here, as in so much of PaPadhiamandis' fiction, the setting is the island of Skiathos, one of the Sporades of the northwest Aegean, where the author was born and raised . 62 Pa adhiamandis' rearin on this island was both aristocratic P g and religious, which accounts for his strong tie to the katharevousa. His family belonged to one of the old established families of Skiathos wh :ich had lost its wealth but retained its dignity and traditions. Young Alexandros was influenced by his father, an educated man, who as c :Leric and psalmist led a religious life in the monasteries and chapels which he served. Alexandros often accompanied his father and soon learned the Psalms and troparia--short hymns of the fourth and fifth centuries--by heart. This no doubt accounts for the inclusion of Old Testament language and other sacred material in the michté' as mentioned earlier. This background no doubt also accounts for those rare but very engaging moments of philosophical discourse almost exclusively in the 1(Eltharevousa. Though we might expect, from the demands of realism, tflat characters express themselves in narrative reflective passages, if not in the demotic at least in the micht'é——peasant characters uSually articulate Papadhiamandis' innermost thoughts and beliefs in "pure" katharevousa. The quotation below is but one example. Hadula 1‘I‘li‘angoyannou, whose language in the dialogue is as colloquial and "Unlearned" as we might expect from a poor peasant woman, speaks to us abOnt the world and its miseries in a most learned tongue: Kaamg dvfipxero rfiv pdev dvrtupé, néoav rmv Kfinmv, dvm r06 pebuarog, fiuouoe rov uLuoov umémva r00 uova0rnpfiou vd fixfi yluud, rematvd not uovérova, vd égunvd rag fixobg r00 Bouvofi, nut vd éovfi rhv uakaxfiv afipav. 'Hro dpa ueoov- Ourtov, mod r06 Meoovunrtuofi, moo r00 'Opapou! ng fioav abruxetg 0L dvaowROL abrfi, otereg eo- Sbg dué0wg, éu vsapdg hALntag, mOdv duo Satay €unveu0tv, efxov at08av0fi noEov firo r0 nakkireo— 0v, r0 enotov fiunoooOoav Va uduouv -- to ya ufi méoouv onkaofi dAAoug etc rov udouov 6u0roxetg! ... not nerd roOro, 01a floav 686repa. 63 502/102 - 503/10 As she climbed the opposite ridge, beyond the Gardens, above the stream, she heard the small bell of the monastery toll sweetly, humbly, monotonously, awakening the echoes of the mountains, and stirring the gentle wind. It was therefore midnight, hour of the Midnight Office, hour of Matins! How happy they were, these men who, early in their youth by divine inspiration had the pre— science to do what was best--not to bring, that is, others into the world ill-fated! . . . after that, everything being secondary. But the katharevousa among the modern Greek languages is Cléalrtainly the most appropriate for philosophic thought--rich in Ei'IDstract terms and directly related to the ancient tradition. All these examples illustrate what Palamas, a poet himself, ‘111C1erstood and expressed about the capriciousness of Papadhiamandis' lElégg§§£§_when he said that Papadhiamandis "changes grammar, style, language in accordance with his circumstance, taste, diSposition. ‘ - ."1 In choosing katharevousa for philosophic comment, demotic ifc’t7 colloquial expression in dialogue, and michte for narration in— between, Papadhiamandis demonstrates the poet's instinct for just that: ‘nuitCflning grammar, style, and language to circumstance, taste, and dis- Position. These are the subjective elements in literature which usually defy Statistical analysis. Though he had no imitators and founded no \ 1See quotation, p. 5 . 64 school, Papadhiamandis' writings remain one of the great contributions t: 0 modern Greek letters. They remain so because his fictions pass one of the most important aesthetic tests--—they are memorable. APPENDICES APPENDIX A APPENDIX A Introduction to Stylistic Characterization While the dialogue of The Murderess has been excluded from all analytical matter in this dissertation for purposes of studying the michte in isolation, the study which follows--"Stylistic Charac- terization in The Murderess"--has been included here to give the reader a view of Papadhiamandis as "pure" demoticist and dialogist. The analysis, though designed to show Papadhiamandis as narrative technician, will perhaps more importantly shed additional light on the aesthetics of his style. Stylistic Characterization in The Murderess While Papadhiamandis' narrative prose in The Murderess reveals a "hesitancy" perhaps--"5bOT¢§€L T009 TOROUQ " in choosing between ka‘tharevousa and demotic forms, the dialogue shows a steadfastness and mastery. There is little evidence of hesitancy here. Most charac- teristics of the katharevousa are gone. Demotic contraction and Gildlsion replace ancient formula and formal forms. There is a profusion (If idiom and proverb. There is dialect and imitation of dialect. F0reign derivatives--Serbian, Turkish, Albanian and others—-words anathema to the purist, are often preferred to the Greek words of ideIltical meaning. Moreover, there is evidence that speech in The Murderess V ' o o aJTIJES Significantly from character to character in manner or style. 65 66 It appears, also, that a manner or style is particularly apt or charac— terizing and that the difference is of a magnitude which precludes chance. Perhaps such stylistic characterization in The Murderess is just further evidence of a long tradition in Greek literature extending back at least as far as Thucydides.l The two studies below which offer evidence of stylistic charac- terization in The Murderess examine: (l) the "rhetorical question" as the chief characterizing element in the speech of Hadula Frangoyannou; and (2) the "exclamation" as a stylistic characterizing device for differentiating the speech of various personages in the novel. The Rhetorical Question in the Speech of Hadula Frangoyannou The strong and determined nature of Hadula Frangoyannou's personality is established early in the story by description (page 193, lines 25-40) and narration (page 235, lines 9—23). Observation indicates as well that Papadhiamandis sustains this impression through idiosyncracy in her speech—~namely the habit of answering statements with questions; of answering questions by questions; and of expressing ideas by questions. This device not only individualizes her speech but also concretizes the imperious and commanding quality of her personality. Table 30 (from the text of The Murderess) illustrates the frequency of her rhetorical questions. The selected quotations below illustrate the nature and variety of her rhetorical questions: 1 See Daniel P. Tompkins, "Stylistic characterization in Thiuzydides: Nicias and Alcibiades," Yale Classical Studies, Vol. 22, pp). 181-214 for derivation of the studies which follow. 67 TABLE 30 Rhetorical Questions in the Dialogue of The Murderess Character Location Hadula Frangoyannou 196/11(s)*, 12(3), 12-13(s), 15(3), 38, 49(3), 61(3), 70(3), 83(3); l99/51(S), 63; 233/45-47; 236/80(3), 80—81(s); 237/l(s), 5, 14-15(s), 17—18, 18-19(s); 271/6, 8; 272/22(s), 72(3); 303/21-22; 304/20, 23, 25, 25(3), 46, 78(s), 80(3); 305/3, 34; 307/86, 100; 308/71, 73, 75(3); 341/34, 81(3); 342/50(s), 58, 79(s); 368/31; 370/11; 373/78; 405/14; 473/14, 23, 33; 500/58, 79; 501/99; 502/49(s), 50; 528/6l(s), 61-62, 62-63. Amersa 196/64(s), 90(3). Dandis 196/93-4(s). First Policeman 268/39. Portaitaina 303/23. Yannis 370/30. Delharo 304/48, 57; 373/81. Maroussa 407/48, 51. Khambanakhmakis 437/37, 66; 500/64. Father Jehosaphat 501/32. Officer 533/25. *(s) indicates "sarcastic" retort. 1.- 2.. .3. 4. 'Auépoa: Xaéofika: Amersa: Hadula: Amersa: Hadula: 'Auépoa: Xaéoéka: Amersa: Hadula: 'Auépoa: Xaéouka: Amersa: Hadula: va/tfig: Xaéoéka: Konst. Hadula: 68 --H&g udEL, udva; --H&c vd ndn! ...TC 8d udum! ...éév 8d BfiEU; Hég to BkéneLg, udva; ng vd to LEO; 195/10'15 "How is it doing, Mother?" "How can it be doing}... What will it do}... Won't she cough?" "How do you see it, Mother?" ”How can I see it?..." -— Kaknuéoal...n®g efore;...nag nepdoare; --'E06 'oaL, 'AuéDOG; 196/35‘38 "Good morning!... How are you?... How did you pass [the nigh£72" "That you, Amersa?" -—T’ Elva udva; --TC vd etvs!..10 vaoravrfig... 196/60-61 "What's that, Mother?" "What_£31s§7 could it be!... Constandis..." --Aév éXEL uavéva oOuo;... --HoO vd Bpsafi TétOLo nodual... 196/80-83 "Isn't there any fig?..." "Where can such a thing be found!..." 69 Auth roO €6L6€ rfiv uévnv AoYLufiv not rfiv uévnv npénouoav dudvrnOLv: “‘Eob uovdxa 6x3Lg uopCTOLa udoropn; ‘0 dAAog noouog 53v éxouv;" 233/45-47 She [fiadu1a7 gave him the only logical and the only appropriate answer: "Only you have girls, boss? The rest of the world doesn't have any?" 'Auépoa: --El6a orov finvo uou nmg néfiave, efne us ndlkouoav duoun mwvnv h ownkfi veoovrouopn. Xafioéka: --'Auu'odv sfxs nsfidvn; rdxa It; elne nuvtuég h Yoata... K'éonuéang...u' fiofieg vd téfig; 236/77-82 Amersa: "I dreamt that she died," said the tall old maid in a still trembling voice. Hadula: "And if she had died, so what?" the old woman said cynically. "So you got up... and came to see?" ’Auépoa: --Ef6a nmg néSave To noptroL, nut nag éob slxeg Eva uofipo onudéL oré xépL oou. 237/3-5 Amersa: "... I saw that the girl died, and that you had a black mark on your hand..." Hadula: "Black mark?" 8 . Xaéouka: Hadula: 9 . Xwoo/omog: Xaéofika: Policeman: Hadula: 10. Aekxapm: Xaéouka; Delharo: Hadula: Delharo: Hadula: 70 --...Ti 3' dnfikaoev duo rd Bdoava roO noouou; Kat oOr' éCfiAeus udv! TC vd inkéwn; 271/6-8 ". . What would she enjoy of the miseries of the world? And neither was she jealous at all. Jealous of what?" --...Mdg AéEL nag efvs dooworn. --'Appworn Elva! nég vd ufiv etvs! 272/70-72 "... She tells us she's sick." "Sick she is! How not to be!” —-T' efvs, udva; efne. --T' efve! SIRE, Itnora. Eunvnoeg; --MoO wdvnue nag HdTL etneg... nmg u' émévageg, uég' rev bnvo uou. --'Eyé;...6xL. TOOTLG oou nduave. --Tt moo vd etve, udva; --TL mod; Eépm'yé;... 304/17-26 "What is it, Mother?" she said. "What is it!" she said. "Nothing. Did you wake up?" "It seemed to me you said something... that you called me in my sleep." "Me?... no! You're hearing things." 71 "What time can it be, Mother?" "What time? Don't know?... " 11, Xaéouka: --'Ag ndw orov unaxroé r00 PLdvvn, vd roO yuoéww uovéva udroo noouuééta,... Ti 8d xdow; 307/84-86 Hadula: "Might as well go to Yannis' garden, to beg him for a bunch of onions... What can I lose?" 12, Xafiouka: Etta 66869 ndALv uaS' éaurfiv. -—TC éooxswt vd uavetg orh mréxeta! 307/99-100 Hadula: Then immediately again she said to herself: "What service can one offer the poori... " 13. Xaéouka: --Tfi AeufiepLd 8d rfig énavav rfig mrthdg, rfig HepLBvoOg, dvtomg Enemrav uéo' In orépva u' énokuunofioavl... Nd LéoOus, 5x3L vepo; 308/71—73 Hadula: "... What relief it would give the poor Perivolas if they were to fall into the cistern and swim!... Let's see, has it water?" 14» Xaéoula: --TC r'amfivst €53, ustvog o narépag tong uand uootroua, clue ndALv fi @payuoytavvofi. dea 63v unooofiv vd néoouv not uovaxd Toug uéoa;... 308/76-79 Hadula: "How could their father leave them here, little girls," said Frangoyannou. "As if they couldn't 3.6. 217. 153. 72 fall in by themselves?..." Xaéoula: ‘H @payquLavvoO éouéman: "@d mmvdgouv, dea;...®' duouorfi; H06 v'dnouorfil... 341/33-35 Hadula: Frangoyannou wondered: "Will they scream perhaps? Will it be heard? Where can it be heard!..." Xaéouka: ...Aév éxere to voO Gog, xpLorLavo£;... nag uduav€;...Kat rdmfivere uovaxd roug, uovrd orfiv oréova, vepo wsudrnE... 341/81—84 Hadula: "... Haven't you any sense, dear?... How could you?... and you leave them alone, near a cistern, full of waterf..." Auptvuog: --Eép€Lg rinora, @Etd PapouwoALd; énovékaBev o Aupfiynog RAnOLéoreoov épxousvog. Xaéofika: TC vd Eépm, YULé uou; 437/12-14 Lyringos: "You know something, Aunt Garoufalia?" Lyringos repeated coming closer. Hadula: "What can I know, my son?..." FLépyn: --...8éAm, not vdve anmuévn yond! Ndxn Hat nsruéQL! Xaéoéka: --H06 vd Bpefifi to neruéEL, YULé uou; 501/97—98 73 George: "I want a pancake, a folded pancake! With syrup!" Hadula: "Where can syrup be found, my son?" said Frangoyannou. .19. Kaunavaxudung: ...Zé AunofiuaL uafiuévn! Ti uptua éuaueg; Xaéoula: --'Eym; npfiuara noAAd... 502/48-49 Khambanakhmakis: "I pity you, poor thing. What crime have you committed?" Hadula: "Me? Many crimes... " Examination of the quotations reveals that Hadula Frangoyannou llsses rhetorical questions for the most part either (1) to express SBzarcasm (No. 1, 3, 4, and 6) or (2) to gain polemic advantage-~to dis- credit or "put down" the assertions of others (No. 5, 7, 9, l4, l6, l7, JLEB, and 19). Sometimes the expressions combine both. We find further that the speech of Hadula itself is somewhat ifcarmulaic; that she is habituated to a certain phraseology in the forma- tion of the rhetorical question--name1y, the use of the interrogative followed by " vd ": It. vd; nag vd; not") vd; This formula is £153 common in Greek as predicate following subject in English, but I’éilaadhiamandis' use of "'Vd." for Hadula is particularly "characterizing" t>eac:ause in the "\K1 " resides the power of her sarcasm or her verbal v'e‘ige" over others. For example, Hadula's attitude toward her son—in- law noisily collecting his tools in the morning is clearly expressed (also by rhetorical question) five lines above quotation No. 3: Xaéouka: --'Auofig, rt oauavrfi ndveL! efnev fi ypata... Aév unopst vd uaEéEn Id CLGEQLud rou, . 3 OR o.\. 2» L. . NW. .0 N u a \ NH « « . Ab .u ; o~,; ht. \ ~1L‘ .3 rot ?& .tv‘ ‘L 74 xmpfig v' duouorffi. . . . 196/49-52 ("Hear, what a ruckus he is making?" said the old woman. "He can't collect his irons, without their being heard...") Then, when his wife wakes up from the noise and asks: T. EEVS UdVGI ("What's that, Mother?"), all of Hadula's irritation is vested in the tiny "VG." of her answer: Tl: Va EEWL! O KW/TIJQ oéxve rd ouveoyd rou uég to gamut! the fa yoata. ("What 131337 is it! Constandis is throwing his tools into the satchel!... said the old woman, sighing.) The force of the formulaic"\)O'L" in Hadula's speech can perhaps be even more dramatically illustrated by examining a situation in which the "pd" is conspicuously absent. It is the only instance when Hadula is at a loss for words. It is during tense moments of conversa- tion with her daughter, Delharo, who has just woken up and is about to discover that her baby is dead. The baby was moments before suffocated by HaduLa, its grandmother (the quotation is No. 10, repeated here for further illustration): Aekxaoé: --T' efve, udvva; Effie. XaéoOAa: --T' sfvs! efns, Itnora. Bunvnoeg; --MoO mdvnus nmg MdTL efneg...nmg u' émévageg, uég' rev finvo uou. --'Eyé;...6xt. Taurtd coo Mduawe. -- Tfi épa vd Elva, udva; -- Ti épa; gépw 'yé;... Tooeg mooég Adknos not Eavakdknoe r' bovfiSL. .l. a P. ... . . . . ~ . . J .1 e C .sL. ~\. >\ C c MUN cg >1 YA u t a la ‘1 We . an H.“ ... a,» .C III. LAWN mm «mu m. . ..u. C nu w! . a .. . u" e ‘7 N O I. 5 01c" h V 75 Delharo: "What is it, Mother?" she said. Hadula: "What is it!" she said. "Nothing. Did you wake up?" Delharo: "It seemed to me you said something... that you called me, in my sleep.‘' Hadula: ”Me?... no! You're hearing things..." Delharo: "What time can it be, Mother?" Hadula: "What time? Don't know... The cock has crowed and crowed so many times over." Here Hadula Frangoyannou is so stunned by the situation that the usual command and sarcasm in her voice is gone. And so are the sarcastic "va" s,the principal vehicle of her individual style. Under Ordinary circumstances, Delharo would have asked: Tt (1300. etvat; not TL (1300. Vd EEVGL ; and her mother would no doubt have sarcasti- cally answered: Tl. vdL ECVOLL; H6); vd. gépw; Tooog cpopég Adknos 310.1 Eavaldknoe T'épVCSL. (”What could it be? How can I know?... The cock has crowed and crowed so many times over.") It is interesting to note here, that though this time Delharo enunciates " Vd"—-juxtaposed to the question, not the answer--her TL! (1300. v6. EIVOLL is quite devoid of sarcasm or command. Quite the Opposite. It serves rather to heighten the tension of the moment by V0 icing Delharo's anxious, confused, apprehensive state. The reason is that 6300. has been placed between TC and mi changing the impli- cation of mi to 5.00. (I wonder). " N6." is one of those chameleon-like words in modern Greek which so easily and so subtly 76 changes meaning by positioning or other slight alteration of the l sentence . There is even one instance (373/81) in which Delharo asks a It is the moment rhetorical question in conversation with her mother. with the death 1:11e police arrive and suddenly her mother's connection of her baby becomes clear to her: Tl: vd. TNT) M'éYd): Tl uafiuévn! But here again, there is no force to ("Vnun:can I say, poor thing?") the "va'" It has been attenuated by the addition of "H" ." TL v6. “(7) or Tt Va “5): éYd’ is forceful speech; TI. vd T163 14' 6Y5) i_s; submissive complaint. "vdfl Papadhiamandis reserves the clipped, sarcastic, forceful It is, as we have seen, fOrHadula Frangoyannou almost exclusively. t1”leedevice which defines her character and maintains her advantage It is €111f his characters. APPENDIX B PB APPENDIX B THE MURDERESS Curled up by the fireplace, eyes closed, head leaning against the border of the hearth, called the "fougopodharo," Aunt Hadula, commonly called Yannou the Frank, was not sleeping, but was sacrificing her sleep beside the crib of her sick infant grandchild. As for the woman in childbed, mother of the suffering infant, she had some moments ago fallen asleep on her low humble bed. A small oil lamp, flickering, hung below the mantle of the fireplace. It cast shadow instead of light on the few pieces of shabby furniture which appeared cleaner and finer at night. The three half-burnt logs, and the large upright branch in the fireplace dropped much ash, some Cinders, but seldom burst into flame, causing the old woman to remember in her drowsiness, her absent youngest daughter, Krinyo, who, had she been now in the room, would have murmured rhythmically, "If it's a friend, may it prosper, if it's an enemy, may it choke..." Hadula, called the Frank, or Frangoyannou, was a woman almost sixty, comely, stout, mannish, with even a faint mustache at the corners of her upper lip. In her reverie, she gathered together the whole of her life, and realized that she had done nothing other than serve others. When she was a child, she served her parents. When she Inarried, she became a slave to her husband—-though, through her strength and his weakness, she was at the same time his guardian; when 81 SL1 >— ... p. . _t L; 82 she had children, she became their maid; when her children had children, she became again the maidservant of her grandchildren. The infant had been born two weeks earlier. Its mother had suffered since giving birth. It was she who was sleeping on the bed, the first daughter of Frangoyannou, Delharo the Trahilaina. They had rushed to baptize it on the tenth day because it was suffering terribly; it had a bad cough, whooping—cough, accompanied by signs of convulsions. As soon as it was baptized, the infant seemed a little better the first night, and the coughing stopped for a while. For many nights, Fran- goyannou gave not sleep to her eyes, nor slumber to her eyelids, keeping awake beside the little creature who could not imagine the trouble it was causing others, nor the hardships awaiting it if it survived. And it was unable to sense at all the questions which alone the grandmother secretly formulated to herself--"My God, why has it too come into the world?" The old woman lullabied it, and would have been able to tell "her sorrows in songs" above the cradle of the little one. During the past few nights, she indeed became "irrational," meditating upon all her suffering in detail. In images, in scenes, and in visions, her entire life passed through her mind: the futileness, and fruitlessness and weariness. Her father was frugal, hard-working and prudent. Her mother was wicked, cursing and envious. She was one of the witches of her time. She was versed in sorcery. Bandits had hunted her two or three times, palikars of Karatassos and of Gatsos and of the other Chieftains ‘ I .3 IE V . 83 of Macedonia. They did this for revenge, because she had hexed them, and their exploits were not going well. For three months, activity had ceased and they were unable to plunder anything from either the Turks or the Christians. Even the government of Corinth did not send them any aid. They had chased her, downhill, from the top of St. Athanasios to the plateau of Prophet Elias with its enormous plane trees and generous spring, and from there to Merovili, on the side of the mountain, between the wild woods and the bushland. She tried to hide in a thick copse, except she did not fool them. The rustling of the leaves and of the boughs, her own terror, which transferred trembling movement to the branches and bushes, betrayed her. Then she heard angry voices. "Ach! silly girl, we've caught you!..." She jumped then from inside the bushes, and ran like a frightened turtle-dove beating its broad white wings. There was no more hope of her escape. Once, the first time, they hunted her, she managed to hide down by Pirghi because that place had many paths. Here in Merovili there were no little roads or labyrinths, only clusters of trees and untrammeled brush. The then young Delharo, Frangoyannou's mother, hopped like a hare from bush to bush, barefoot (because long before she had cast off her shoes from her feet, one of which had been picked up as a trophy by one of the pursuers), and the thorns punctured her heels, cut and bloodied her ankles and shins. Then, in her hopelessness, she had an idea. There by the copse, on the mountain's flank, was the one and Orlly well-cultivated olive grove, called the "Pine of Moraftis." 84 Old Moraitis, grandfather of the proprietor, had emigrated from Mistra to this place toward the end of the last century during the reign of Katherine and Orlof. The famous pine stood in the middle of the olive grove, like a giant among dwarfs. The thousand year old tree had been grottoed down near the roots of its colossal trunk, which five men could not embrace. Shepherds and fishermen had hollowed it, had dug deep into its heart, had scooped out its entrails in order to get from there bountiful kindling. Yet despite the terrible wounds and disembowelment, it stood another three quarters of a century until 1871, when in July of that year inhabi- tants for miles around and all the way down to the sea felt tremblings like a frightful earthquake. That night the giant fell. Into that hollow, inside of which two people could sit comfortably, ran the then young Delharo, mother of today's Frangoyannou. This stratagem was hopeless, almost juvenile. There, no one would hide except in make-believe, like children playing hide-and-seek. Surely her pursuers would see her there. It was invisible in fact only from the back. If the three bandits had arrived from the opposite side, they would have seen her as if she were nailed there. The three men ran passed it, and continued running. Two of them never looked back. They imagined the "silly girl" had run ahead. Only at the last moment, the third, somewhat puzzled, turned around and looked everywhere else but at the trunk of the pine. He saw the pine together with all the other things, never imagining 85 that the trunk had a hollow and was hiding a human soul. And had be known of or recognized the hollow in the gigantic trunk, at that moment it would never have crossed his mind. He looked to find perhaps a void in the earth which had by all means swallowed her, for there was not a ripple to be seen to hide her. Nymphs, forest fairies, summoned perhaps by her magic were protecting her, had blinded her pursuers, casting clouds of greenish mist, verdant darkness into their eyes. They never noticed her. The young woman was saved from their claws. And for a long period thereafter she continued to work her magic against the bandits, causing them so much "trouble" that booty could no longer be found. This continued until, by the grace of God, things quieted down and Sultan Mahmoud returned as they say, the "Islands of the Devil" to Greece. But ransom gave way to taxation, for exemption had come to an end, and from then on the chosen people continued to slave for the great central belly "which hath not ears." Hadula the Frank, though very young, was born then and remembered her mother recounting all these stories later. Afterward, when she grew up and turned seventeen and things had somewhat quieted down with the years of stable government, her parents married her off to Yannis the Frank, whom his wife nicknamed ”Tasselcap" and "Calcula- tion.” wife, 6 1 when 5? that hi bright- | £133" c was inc 1 for two fl the Ca. HE\'er w\ E 350 £01 I SOn~in- fall. 1 r“Glut Patch”“ hours d 86 These two nicknames were not given without reason by his wife, Hadula. "Tasselcap" she named him even before she married him when she would mock him with innocent guile--without foreknowledge that he was to be her luck and husband--because he wore a long bright-red nightcap with a short tassel instead of a fez. "Calcula- tion" came later, after she married him because she discovered he was incapable of figuring either the sum of a few drachmas or his pay for two days' labor, though he was in the habit of saying, "that's the calculation." If she were not there, they would cheat him daily, never giving him correct pay for labor at the drydocks or at the shipyard where he worked as carpenter or caulker. For a long time he apprenticed and caulked for her father who followed the same trade. The old man, seeing how simple, frugal, and unpretentious he was, approved of him and decided to make him a son—in-law. For dowry, he gave him an abandoned house, ready to fall, in old Castro, where people at one time lived before the revolution. In addition, he gave a place called Bostani--"melon patch"——lying just outside deserted Castro on a coastal cliff three hours distant from the present town. Similarly he gave a wild field which the neighbor claimed to own; but others asserted that both fields in dispute were "church property" of a defunct Convent. Such was the dowry old Statharos bestowed upon his daughter. She was moreover his only daughter. For himself, his wife and his son, be retained two recently constructed houses in the new town, two adjacent vineyards, two olive groves, some lands--and whatever cash they had . “as 3:: hEr 6‘ v' E Pillow what Vi Come 1: 87 Up to this point, Frangoyannou's reveries came that night. It was the eleventh evening since her daughter had given birth. The infant had fallen sick again and was suffering terribly. It had come into the world ill. From its mother's womb the deterioration had continued... At that moment, spasmodic coughing interrupted the day dreams, the reveries. She moved from the lowly mattress where she was lying, bent over the child and tried to give it a little aid. She drew near a small bottle in the light of the oil lamp. She tried placing on the baby's lips a teaspoonful. The baby swallowed but immediately coughted it up again. The mother in childbed stirred on her low, narrow bed. She was apparently not sleeping well. She was only drowsy, and had closed her eyes. Opening her eyes, she raised her head slightly above the pillow and asked: "How is she, Mana?" "How is she?" the old woman said sternly... "Quiet down now! What will it do!... it's going to cough, isn't it?" "How do you see it, Mana?" "How should I see it?... It's a small baby,... there, had to come into this world too!... the old woman added in a harsh, singular tone. After a while the mother in childbed fell asleep more soundly. The old woman had just closed her eyes for a while at daybreak after the third crowing of the cock, when she awakened by the voice of her daughter, Amersa, who had come so early from the small house, next ”Rich . \. 33kg, Said t». 88 door, impatient to learn how her sister and the baby were and how her mother had passed the night. Amersa, second of the children, was unmarried and an old—maid already. Swarthy, tall, rather masculine, she was very industrious and "accomplished," well-known for her weaving--her trousseau had been filled many years ago with dresses she made herself, but which were for some time now locked away in a homely chest to be eaten by the moths and termites. "Good morning!...How are you?...How was your night?" "That you, Amersa? There, this night is over too." The old woman had just woken up and rubbed her eyes, stammering. Noise came from the small adjoining room. It was Dandis the Trahilis, husband of the mother in childbed who slept on the other side of a thin wooden partition beside another daughter and a very small son, and he had just woken up that moment. Collecting his tools--adzes, saws, planes--he was preparing for the shipyard and another day's work. "Listen to that ruckus," said the old woman. "Can't collect his tools quietly. What will the neighbors think!..." "That a gypsy's house is burning!" laughed Amersa ironically. The noise of the tools from the other side of the partition which Dandis,without being visible, was throwing into his box--adzes, saws, drills, etc.--woke up his sick wife. "What's that, Mana?" "What else!... Constandis throwing tools into the satchel!" said the old woman, yawning. Dreweri an dri 89 "And with respect for life?" added Amersa, finishing the proverb. Then Constandis' voice was heard behind the small partition. "Did you wake up, Mother-in-law?" he said, "how did you pass the night?" "How should we pass it! 'Like the hen at the mill...' Come and drink your raki." Dandis appeared at the door of the winter room. He was broad- chester but ungainly; "clumsy" his old mother-in-law said, and almost beardless. The old woman showed Amersa the small flask of raki on the narrow shelf above the hearth and nodded at her to pour a glass for Constandis to drink. "Isn't there even a fig?" he asked, as he took the glass of raki from his sister-in-law's hand. u "Where can such a thing be found!... said Hadula. "A million and one things missing around here," she added, meaning the splurging which usually takes place even in the poorest of homes on ”happy occasions," like the birth of a baby daughter. ' said Amersa, his sister- "You'd like a son-in-law with eyes,’ in—law, remembering another proverb. "You'd be satisfied with a blind one, I suppose?" said Dandis... "Viva! To her forty days!" And he shot down the liquor in one gulp. n "Good evening!... He picked up his satchel and set off for the shipyard. on the her bed 90 II The fire died down in the fireplace, the oil lamp flickered on the narrow wainscoting, the mother in childbed lay half asleep on her bed, the infant coughed in its crib, and old Frangoyannou, as she had done the previous nights, lay awake upon her mattress. It was toward the first crowing of the cock when her reveries came in the form of visions. After they "matched her up" and married her off, endowered her with the ramshackle house in old uninhabited Castro, with the uncultivated melon patch in the wilds of the island's northern confines, and the wild field disputed by the neighbor and the Monastery, the young bride with her husband and a few possessions set up housekeeping at the home of her widowed sister—in-law. Her marriage contract, such as it was, listed in detail, a number of dresses, so many blouses, so many pillowcases, a few pots, a frying pan, one andiron, etc. Even some knives, forks and spoons were mentioned in the contract. On the Monday immediately following the marriage, the sister-in—law took inventory and found that two sheets, two pillows, one kitchen utensil and a complete dress--items listed in the catalogue--were missing. That very day she advised the mother—in- law to bring the rest of the things. The selfish woman answered that "all was well given and enough." Then the groom's sister had words with her brother; he complained to his young bride and she answered him: "Had he cared about his interests he would never have agreed to a house at Castro, where only ghosts live; and, what vi..- 91 difference were the sheets and the blouses when he was unable to acquire a house, and vineyard and olive grove?" During their engagement, Hadula had tried indeed to tell the groom much the same. Though she was very young, thanks to her natural tendencies and the lessons learned, consciously and unconsciously from her mother, she had become very cunning for her age. But her mana smelled the thing, and fearing lest the little Shrew (her usual name for Hadula), give the groom any ideas about asking for more dowry, began a tyrannical surveillance of the engaged couple, prohibiting the slightest private talk between the two. This she did on the pretext of propriety: "I've no mind...for that little shrew...to put me one in the slips prematurely," she said. See, the transfer of the verb she took from her husband's occupation. ("In the slips" same as "lay a keel") but her real motive was to avoid giving larger dowry. One evening, on the eve of the engagement, at the time when the groom and his sister had come to the house to discuss the dowry, the old shipbuilder was dictating the marriage contract to Anagnostis Syvias, church precenter, who had taken a bronze ink pot from his belt, and a goose feather pen from its long case, much resembling a pistol and had placed on his knees the "Book of the Apostle" and on the book a leaf of heavy parchment. He had written according to the dictation of the old man, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit... I marry my daughter, Hadula, with Ioannis n 1 , .b . , leSC;‘ . “. 12:85; a“: ‘ , Y‘ $2..or rug LQSLTD hEr deg was ob] the EEOC shouide an int: toward 1'11 f: 92 Frangos, and I give her, first my benediction,..." Hadula stood opposite the hearth, beside the "templa"——the pile of mattresses, quilts and pillows covered with a silk sheet, and crowned by two enormous pillows-~motion1ess and proud, it seemed as the templa itself... All the while, however, she was motioning, secretively, impatiently, indeed with great caution, motioning to her fiance, motioning to the sister—in—law, not to accept as dowry "house in Castro" and "field in Stivoto," but to demand a house in the new town and a vineyard and olive grove in the vicinity of the new town. In vain. Neither the groom nor the sister-in—law noticed her desperate signs. Only the old woman, her mother, who, though she was obliged to turn her back to her daughter in order to politely face the mother-in—law and the groom, sat in such a way as to have one shoulder turned toward the young girl. Suddenly, as if informed by an invisible spirit that something was going on, she swiftly turned toward her daughter and saw her forbidden "antics." She stared at her threateningly. "Eh! stupid shrew!" she murmured to herself. "Bewarel... I'll fix you!" Directly afterward, however, she realized it would not be in her interests to make an issue of it. She feared it might prompt a complaint to the father. And surely that could make matters worse. The old man might give into his only daughter's pleadings and give her additional dowry. So she said nothing. Hadula wondered how, though her mother clearly caught her in the act of making those dangerous signs, for the first time in her I}: We .3. C; C CO1 0m 0716 93 life, when they were next alone, she did not scratch, nor pinch, nor bite her, things which otherwise, she often did. Note that dowry of a house in the old uninhabited village had these advantages, that a number of houses were still intact in Castro, that certain families used to spend the summer there, and that in the minds of the people there was a bias in favor of the "Old village, which the elders pined for, for they were not yet accustomed to the new order of things or to peaceful life free from incursions by robbers, pirates or the Turkish armada, and the conditions in the new town were still uncer- tain and there was an expectation that the people would again be forced to return to their "old haunts." But while everyone remembered Castro and Castro was being missed and mused upon, and spoken of, the construction of homes in the new town did not cease--demonstrating once again that men commonly think one thing but do another, imitating one another mechanically. In any case, two weeks after the engagement the marriage took place. This was the wish of the mother-in-law. It was not to her liking, she said, to have an unmarried groom visit the house, especially one formerly given free access as a co-worker and appren- tice to her husband. And the sister-in—law, widowed, elderly, with a teen age child, also working at the shipyard, and another dependent boy and girl, took the newlyweds in. Then, about a year later, the first child, Stathis, was born. Then came Delharo, followed by Yalis, afterward Mihalis, followed by Amersa, after her Mitrakis, and finally Krinyo. During the first years, peace seemed to reign in the house. grand. 94 Later, war commenced in the house when the first two grew old enough to play with the youngest two of the sister-in-law. Then Frangoyannou, now aged and experienced, as she herself would modestly admit, managed to build a small house of her own through frugalities and resourcefulness. The first year she was able to build only the four adobe walls, small and low, and roof them. The second year she succeeded in boarding over three quarters of the house, that is to say, she laid a small floor of old and new planks of unequal lengths and thicknesses. Then, without losing time, impatient to free herself from the tyranny of her sister-in—law who with age had grown eccentric, she moved to her own "quarters," her own "nest," her own "corner" together with her husband and children. That day, she would often say, was the most joyful of her entire life. All these things Frangoyannou remembered, relived, so to speak, during those long, sleepless January nights while the north wind, soughing outside, intermittently beat against the roof tiles and shook the windows as she kept vigil beside the crib of her infant grand-daughter. It was already three o'clock in the morning, and the cock crowed again. Having just quieted down, the infant began coughing distressingly. It had come sick into the world and in addition, caught cold it seems on the third day, in the baptismal font when it had been immersed. After that the coughing began. For days, Frangoyannou eagerly watched for signs of convulsions in the sick creature--knowing that if they appeared the child would not survive-—though fortunately she did not see any. "It is destined to suffer and cause us suffering," she murmured to herself, beyond ear- shot of anyone. the su her SCI and a . the wee in his but S;‘ diStre. 5168p. perhap. ful 90% is no: ”1 lar and it 95 At that moment, Frangoyannou opened her closed sleepless eyes and rocked the cradle. At the same time she wanted to give the suffering baby its usual medicine. "Who's coughting?" called a voice from behind the partition. The old woman did not answer. It was Saturday evening and her son-in-law had drunk one glass of raki too many before supper and a large glass of vinegary wine afterward in order to relax from the week's labor. Well, Dandis, from drinking too much, was talking in his sleep, or perhaps babbling. The infant did not retain the drop of liquid in its mouth, but spit it out in a fit of the coughing which had increased rather distressingly. "Shut up!..."said Constandis, father of the infant, in his sleep. "And chokel..." added Frangoyannou ironically. In her sleep, the mother in childbed took fright, hearing perhaps the coughing of the little one mixed with the brief bizarre dialogue across the partition between the sleeping man and the wake- ful woman. "What is it, Mana?" said Delharo, sitting up. "The baby is not well?" The old woman smiled bitterly in the trembling light of the oil lamp. "I hear you daughterl..." That "I hear you daughter" was said in a very singular tone. and it was not, by the way, the first time the young mother heard prcvi ' when h shake :35 its L \ theUgh 96 something similar from her mother. She remembered other occasions when the old woman, with neighborhood mothers and grandmothers, would discuss at length the great surplus of young girls, the con- ditions of poverty and want, the emigrations, the demands of suitors, Christian suffering to establish the "weaker sex, that is to say, provide for daughters--all concerns of one's neighbors, but especially when her mother would learn of young girls fallen ill, she would shake her head and say: "I hear you neighbor... There is no Charon? There are no rocks?” because she had the habit of repeating proverbs very expres- sively. On other occasions she heard her phi1030phizing about how it was not in one's interest to have many daughters or even marry. And her usual wish for little girls was ”may they not survive!..." "may they not grow up!" Once she even went so far as to say: "What can I tell you?... Sometimes peOple feel like choking them the moment they're born!..." Yes, she said that, but surely she could never do such a thing... She did not even believe it herself. III In this way the nights passed since Delharo Trahilaina's con- finement. After the child was baptized, and named "Hadula," same 633 its grandmother--who shook her head, murmuring ”What a blessing I” tIO have my name. --the old woman still continued her vigil even tllough the child seemed a little better. Besides, it was natural for I ncuse u ‘i-«A ”:3 i Fay. LI; dear f. She g;. haw ,. le 5. have a“ 3e 97 Frangoyannou to stay awake, for a thousand things crowded her mind and she usually found sleep difficult. Thoughts and events, somber pictures of the past, flooded her mind in waves one after the other, passed before her eyes and filtered through her heart. Well, Hadula had had many children and built a small house in which to live. As her family increased, so did her troubles. Yes, her own frugalities and not her husband's savings had built the house. Master Yanni, the Tasselcap, or "Calculation" could not even calculate his daily wage for four, five or six days at 1.75 or 1.80 a day (that is how much third class carpenters were paid). On occasion, when he caulked for 2.35 or 2.40 a day, he still could not figure his pay. He only knew how to drink most of it away, almost all of it, on Sunday. Fortunately his wife took measures against this and took the money from him Saturday night. Or she collected it directly from the foreman, though not without argument. His boss preferred paying Master Yannis himself because he could withhold money, same as he did from everyone else-—10 or 15 cents extra saying, "I have girls, dear friend, I have girls!" But cheating Frangoyannou was difficult. She gave him the only logical and only deserved answer: "Only you have girls, I suppose! What about the rest of the world, they don't have any?" Or, if she did not succeed in getting the money herself from the shipbuilder, Yannou took it half jokingly, half seriously, from her husband's hands after making sure first she had cajoled and 98 maneuvered him into a good mood. Or, in the end, late Saturday night, she left him to doze off and stole it from his shirt. Then on Sunday morning, she would give him 40 or 50 cents "spending money." Well, she managed to build a house by being frugal, but as for the original little capital, where had it come from? Now, during this night's vigil, Hadula confronted herself with it for the first time. She never even confessed it to her priest though at confession she admitted the usual small sins which he knew even before she said them--bla8phemes, arguments, woman's curses and the like. She never confessed it to her now deceased mother—~though she was the only one who suspected all along, but never said anything to her. Yes, it is true that she considered and had decided to tell her mother just before her death, but unfortunately the old woman's last moments were semi— conscious. She became deaf and mute, "like a vegetable" her daughter described it, and thus the chance to confess her mistake was lost. She never told her father either, or her husband. Well, this was her secret: Before her marriage, Hadula began stealing little by little from her father's meagre savings-~half a piastre at a time. So little he hardly noticed, though twice he sensed something, but thought he himself had made a mistake counting his small treasure.. This treasure he kept in a hidden place which was soon discovered by his wife and only much later by his daughter. Then for a time, Hadula stopped stealing so as not to alarm her father. Later, however, she began stealing again, though Hadula could not hold a candle to the thefts of her mother. I'm och. I 1 — 99 She had stolen a lot, artfully and methodically. Most of it from other sources to which she had easier access such as produce of the family farm, profits from olive oil and wines; and some, about as much as their daughter, from the old man's daily wages. After a time, when trade increased and old Stathis became a small shipbuilder-—(he built boats and caiques himself with his son and an apprentice in the front yard of the house)-—it then became possible for the old woman to steal considerable profits from the art of shipbuilding as well. Finally, a few months before her marriage, Hadula managed to find her mother's hidden money sack. Down a hole in the cellar, between half-filled jars and empty barrels, lay a long, wide strip of black kerchief in which the old woman had "dog-tied" over a hundred and seventy silver pieces--colonial coins, crowns, Turkish money--all stolen from the old man's profits and farm. Astonished, overjoyed, terrified, the daughter counted the coins, the dog-tied bundle, before placing them back in the hole, not daring to take a single one. But on the eve of her marriage, at dusk--seeing how persistent her parents were about a meagre dowry, and the callousness of her mother——she carefully watched for the time the old woman would leave the house on a short errand. Then, with heart pounding, she crept into the cellar, searched and found the dog-tied money sack, and untied it. 'Ihis time there seemed less of it, but she had not counted the money for some time. Perhaps the old woman had taken some coins and spent them for some unknown purpose. At first she decided to take the whole thing, all of it, together with the piece of her mother's old kerchief. *hat E size c onln t flftEt lfl161§ rather Period 100 But she was too afraid. So she took only eight or nine silver pieces-— that much she imagined would not make a perceptible difference in the size of the sack, or be noticed quickly. Then she began re-tying it only to open the sack once again, taking another five or six pieces—- fifteen in all. Tying it again she made a new movement to open it intending to take two or three more coins. Suddenly, she heard her mother's footsteps outside. Hurriedly she tied the sack and put it back in its place. A few days after the wedding, the old woman discovered the theft but said nothing to her daughter. She was relieved the whole thing had not been taken. "Must have been blind!" she said through her teeth. The amount, which Hadula had stolen from her parents from time to time, amounted to about four hundred piastres, the coinage of that period. This she kept carefully hidden for many years. But, in order to build a house she added to the sum through other means which she was always able to do. Hadula was indeed energetic and resourceful. Whenever time permitted between caring for so many of her own children, who came one after the other, she worked for strangers. Moreover, in those small villages there were no specialists but jacks—of-all—trades. Just as the town grocer was at the same time dry—goods merchant, druggist, even a pawnbroker, so a good weaver like Frangoyannou practiced mid- wiving, doctoring and other jobs so long as she felt capable. And Frangoyannou was one of the most capable of all among the women. She prescribed herbs, prepared unguents, administered massage, and exorcized the "possessed," prepared medicines for the sick, for 3'33 flat ' v Lands, left f 0 Years ‘0 it Very Sofiewhej was eve] 101 chlorosic and anemic girls, and for female ailments, especially those accompanying pregnancy and immediately thereafter. With a basket under her left arm, the two youngest children in tow, Dimitrakis, eight, and Krinyo, six, she would wander about the fields, climb the mountains, traverse the glens, the valleys and the streams, searching for familiar herbs--wild onion, snakeweed, clover and others. She would cut or uproot them, fill her basket, and return at night to her house. With these herbs she prepared various salves which she recommended as infallible against chronic pains of the chest, of the stomach, of the intestines, etc. Though these means really brought her very little, by economizing she managed, in time, to build her small nest. Yet it was not long before her young ones grew up and began leaving for foreign lands! During that period her first boy, Statharos, already twenty, left for America and after two letters was never heard from again. Three years later her second boy, Yalis, by then a grown young man, also embarked. Both boys had tried their father's trade during their early years but neither the one nor the other progressed very much or took to it very well. Yalis, an affectionate son and brother, wrote his mother from Marseilles where he had sailed on a navy ship, that he was headed for America in search of his older brother in hopes of finding him somewhere. But months passed, years. Neither the one nor the other was ever heard from again. By this their mother was reminded of a folk tale, one of the funnier ones, concerning a honey mattress. An Old Woman sent her oldest 102 son for some honey. He became stuck in the mattress and so she sent her second son to dislodge the first, and the third, who she sent to free the other two; then the Old Man who went to see what happened to the sons. Finally, the Old Woman decided to go herself to see, from a distance--for being an old woman, she was cunning—-what happened to her husband and her boys who did not return from the "errand" she sent them on. She escaped and did not get stuck. Then, turning on the four of them glued to the mattress she said: "Ah! You found a bed of honey, what about me, honeys!" Meanwhile, while Statharos and Yalis had estranged themselves in America, eaten of the lotus or drunk of Lethe, Delharo, the eldest daughter though younger than her two lost brothers, was growing older and older. And Amersa, almost four years younger than her sister, also "shot up," like Delharo. Mannish, swarthy and mischievous, the neighbors called her "Tomboy." The youngest one, little Krinyo, alas did not have a lily complexion though she was naturally slim; she too showed signs of growing up. "How fast they grow, my God!" thought Frangoyannou. What garden, what meadow, what spring season produces this plant! How it buds, blossoms, flourishes, prospers! And all these sprouts, all these tender shoots, will they become arbors, groves and gardens one day? And what then? Every family in the neighborhood, in the community, and in the town has two to three girls. Some have four, others five. One mother had six daughters and no son. Another seven and one son, who from the start seemed worthless. the s 0 1.. AU other tOe 0 Pa N Shelf a: fin 103 Now all these parents, all these couples, all these widows, each obliged at all costs to marry off their girls—-the five, the six, the seven! Giving each a dowry. All poor families, all widows-~1iving on one—half acre in wretched dwellings; hapless creatures, working for others--either picking figs and mulberries in the fields of well-to—do families--collecting leaves, producing silk; or caring for two or three goats or lambs and becoming hateful to all the neighbors, paying penalties for trivial losses; taxed unmercifully, surviving on barley- bread embittered by the salt of their sweat; duty-bound without fail "to establish" all these females, to give five, six, seven dowries! Oh my God! And dowries according to island custom. "A house in Kotronia, a vineyard in Ammoudia, olive orchard in Lehouni, a field in Strophlia.’ And toward the middle of the century, another pest appeared. The "sum,' which in Constantinople they call "trachoma"; a custom, if I am not mistaken, prohibited by the Orthodox Church. The obligation to give each one a cash dowry also. Two thousand, one thousand, five hundred, whatever. Otherwise, one's daughters become old maids. Remain on the shelf. Closed in the closet. Sent to the museum. IV At this point the old woman's memories and meditations came to an end. The cock crowed for a second time. It was about two in the morning. January, the month. The time, night. The north wind was blowing. The fire in the hearth had gone out. Frangoyannou felt a 104 chill in her back and her feet were ice cold. She thought about getting a little wood from the hall outside to throw into the fireplace to re-kindle the fire. But she felt a little drowsy, the first sympton perhaps of falling asleep. She put it off. At that moment, so early, while her eyes were closed, a strange rapping was heard on the door outside. The old woman was startled. Not wishing to shout "Who is it?" for fear of waking the mother in childbed, she shook off her drowsiness, which had already been rudely interrupted by the knocking, got up slowly and left the room. Even before she reached the exterior door, she distinctly heard a whispering voice: "Mama!" She recognized the voice of Amersa. It was her second daughter. "What happened?... Why so early?" She opened the door. "Mana," repeated Amersa in a feeble voice, "How is the little girl? She isn't dead is she?” ' said the old woman. "What is "No-—she fell asleep, just now,’ the matter?" "I dreamt that she died," said the tall old maid in a trembling voice. "And if she died, so what?" the old woman said cynically. "And so you got up... and came to see?" The Yannou house, where the old woman usually lived with her two unmarried daughters—~though for the present she was staying nightly by the not hcuse c died, 332181) t I' I (D :3 r4 105 the mother in childbed--was only a few dozen steps to the north. This house of Delharo's had been given her in dowry. It was the original one Hadula had built by economizing and that first nucleus from the money sack of her never-to-be-forgotten parents. Later, a few years after Delharo's marriage, Hadula was able to build a second nest, smaller, more wretched than the original, in this same neighborhood. Two or three houses separated the first from the second. Well, it was from this new house that Amersa had come so early-- unafraid of ghosts and the like at night, daring and determined as she was. "And so you got up?... and came to see?" "Suddenly in the middle of my sleep, Mana. I saw that the girl died, and that you had a black mark on your hand...." "Black mark?” "You wanted to wrap her in a shroud immediately. And the moment you wrapped her in the shroud, your hand turned black... and then you quickly put your hand in the fire to get the black off." "Bah! Clairvoyant!" said old Hadula. "And so you stupidly came here at such an hour..." "I couldn't calm down, Mana." "Krinyo doesn't know you left?" "No, she's sleeping." "And if she wakes up and doesn't find you next to her, what will she think?... won't she start crying?... she'll be frightened!" 106 The two sisters, indeed, stayed by themselves in the small house. Amersa was unafraid and sure of herself like a man. Their father had passed away some time ago and their surviving brothers continued living abroad. "I'm going back, Mana," Amersa said... "Truly I didn't think about Krinyo waking up so early and not finding me... she'd be terrified." "Maybe you could stay here," said the mother, "only if Krinyo doesn't suddenly wake up and become frightened." Amersa thought for a moment. ' she said, "Would you like me to stay here so you can go "Mana,' home... so you can rest, calm yourself?" "No," she said after a moment's reflection. "Now the night's almost over anyway. Tomorrow night I'll go home and you'll stay here. Only go now. Happy sunrise!" All this conversation took place in the small narrow hall just outside the room where Constandis' loud, nasal snoring could be heard. Amersa, who had come in barefoot, left silently on tiptoe. Her mother closed the door and turned the key. Amersa dashed away. She had no more fear of ghosts than she had of her brother, Mitros, who the townspeople called "Moron," "Menace" or "Maniac"——that bully, third son of her mother who the old woman usually called "the dog of Agarino!" Three years her senior, he once stabbed her, and though she saved him from the police, he would have surely stabbed her again had he remained free. Fortunately, he 107 practised his murderous inclinations elsewhere and in the meantime, was conveniently closed in the Venetian dungeon of the old fortress in Halcis. Here is how this came to pass. Moron, or Menace, was ungovern- able and violent by nature though he was very capable, inventive and as his mother would say, "too clever." Even as a child he was able to make many small beautiful things by himself: little boats, masks, statuettes, dolls and the like. He became the neighborhood bully and leader of a juvenile gang and under his command he gathered all the innocent boys, all the barefoot street urchins. Soon he began drinking and carousing. With his small friends he organized noisy games, demonstrations and street fights; hurled stones at old men and women, at the poor and weak. Hardly a person was left unmolested. He learned the art of knifemaking at a glance from a passing dealer and began, however imperfectly, to manufacture knives. He had a large grinding wheel in the yard, hiding it under the balcony, and almost turned the basement into a factory. There he sharpened knives and razors for the neighborhood angels and when he had none of theirs to do he sharpened his own. Ambitiously he set about turning single- edged blades into double. Then he tried making revolvers, pistols, small cannons and other lethal weapons. All his money, everything earned from dolls, statuettes and masks—-except the money he drank-- went for gunpowder. This he tried to manufacture as well. During Easter, indeed two weeks before, one passed at one's own risk through the neighborhood where Maniac ruled. The fusilade went on uninterrupted. SITEé W Lu :1 108 One Sunday, drunk, Menace caused a great disturbance in the street. After listening to numerous complaints, two policemen went after him in the hope of getting him "jugged" or thrown in the "Kazarma," the barracks. But Moron, very agile, outdistanced them, turned and mocked them from afar before resuming his escape by hiding in an inaccessible dry-dock at his cousin's, a shipwright. Later, when the two men abandoned their chase, he took courage and returned to the street. That same day, not yet sober, Moron shamelessly chased his own mother in the street, threatening to kill her. He complained that the old woman had stolen money from his pocket. He reached her in their yard where she ran to hide, and seizing her by the hair, dragged her fifty feet along the road. Her screams brought out the neighbors. It was early evening, just before sunset. Into the commotion of the neighbors walked two policemen, the same two who had been searching for Menace and who only appeared to have given up the chase. By this time they were extremely irritated at the agitator. Seeing them, Menace let go of his mother and took flight. Finding himself in narrow straits with no safer or more distant place, he ran into the house. The old woman, badly bruised and covered with dust, got up and began to plead with the policemen. "Leave him alone! He's foolish, that's all. Don't kill him with your sticks!" She said this because she saw one of the policemen was boiling, holding a terrible billy club in his hand. The two men paid no atte forc Hero Vided had d EXEIC with SW13: with tnmk grind leaha H '\ 109 attention to her pleas and continued running after Moron. They forced their way into his hideout, the cellar of the house where Moron had his factory. He ran in there to hide and managed to bar the door just in time. But the bolt was rotten and badly fitted for Moron never liked peaceful labor enough to take the time to fix it. They broke the small bolt and entered. Quick as a wild cat, Menace climbed through a trap-door to the first floor. The trap was located near the north wall, and the north wall rested in part on rock and the rock, jutting out as it did, pro- vided footholds for Moron's agile feet, footings which in the past he had dug out for himself alone. It seems he was used to this kind of exercise. The wood plank of the trap-door was closed. Moron opened it with a butt of the head and a push from his left arm. Then, like a swimmer surfacing, he jumped out onto the floor, closed the trap—door with a bang and apparently placed a heavy weight, perhaps a small trunk, over the wooden cover. Fuming, the two policemen began searching the area, swearing. They confiscated all knives and pistols found there as well as the grinding wheel and two other small Sharpeners, and were preparing to leave or go up into the house. Up on the first floor, Menace or Maniac was in a rage, still drunk and foaming at the mouth. He was raving like a maniac. Up there alone at the time was his then seventeen-year-old sister, Amersa, who grew frightened seeing her brother emerge from the trap-door c095} want? ’ Weapo and 5 mt. 110 in such a strange way. She had heard the steps and curses of the two policemen below. Peering through a small crack between two badly jointed beams or a hollow knot in the floorboard, she saw the two officers below in the light which penetrated the open door of the cellar. "Stupid! I'll kill you... now I'll drink your blood!" cried ‘Maniac, having nowhere else to spend his rage but on his blameless sister. "Hush!... Hush!..." whispered Amersa. "Oh, oh, my God! Two cops! down in the basement... searching... searching... what do they want?" She watched as the two policemen carried away the small, crude weapons, the handiwork of her brother, as well as the grinding wheel and Sharpeners. Then suddenly she saw them stoop in the corner where her mother's loom stood and watched one of the policemen pick up the wooden shuttle, the dart, which he no doubt suspected was a weapon—- since indeed it's called a dart. The other tried to pull out the pole from the loom, the large cylindrical spindle around which the newly woven material is wound; perhaps he never saw such a thing in his life before and thought it also could be good for a weapon. Amersa, seeing this, let out a muffled cry. She wanted to tell them to leave the distaff and shuttle alone, but the words died on her lips. "Shut up, stupid!" cried Maniac. "What're you planning? What're you looking and laughing at?" cry f irrati: delin] Sharp L below t Side th Stream, 1 t 111 Maniac in his drunkenness mistook his sister's inarticulate cry for a laugh. A few moments later, the two policemen, throwing one last glance at the trap-door which they saw close the moment they walked onto the ground floor, left. Amersa stood up. She thought she heard creaking below on the exterior wooden stairs, underneath the roof of the broad porch, the hiyati. She ran towards the door. Amersa assumed the two "regularsf‘as they were called, were coming up the stairs perhaps to force in the door of the house. Bending down to the keyhole she tried peeping through to get an idea of what was happening. The only window facing there was closed, so she had no other choice. Maniac, seeing Amersa run toward the door, imagined, in his irrational drunkenness, that his sister wanted to open the door and deliver him up to the authorities. Then, blind with rage, he drew a sharp knife from his hip, lunged and stabbed her in the back, just below the right armpit. Pierced by the cold steel, Amersa let out an agonized scream. The two policemen who had not yet gone were standing just out- side the front door thinking what to do next. Hearing the fearful scream, they looked up and started running. Clattering up the stairs they reached the hiyati. They banged violently on the door. "Open in the name of the Law!" At that moment, one of the men guessed that the culprit might escape through the trap-door to the ground floor. Turning to the ottun: he said: HOB Stra him 1 Stab} This 112 "Hey, watch out! Don't let him get out the hatch, the trap!... How'll we get him then?" "What did you say?" said the second, not catching on right away. "Do as I say" insisted the first... "Do what you're told!" The other policeman, a little dull-witted, ran down as fast as he could to close the ground floor door or intercept him. But it was too late already. Maniac in the meantime pushed aside the trunk which he had placed over the hatch, opened it and jumped through. It was more than two meters high, but Maniac was light, agile and the ground was covered with wood chips and shavings. He landed on his feet, safe and sound. Running like the wind, he knocked over the policeman who fell heavily in the exterior stairway. Maniac fled like lightning. He ran up toward Kotronia, a place known for its owls. It was a high rocky hill south of the house and Maniac knew its every nook and cranny. Neither the police nor anyone else was able to arrest him. The moment Maniac jumped through the trap-door, he recalled strangely enough--perhaps because the events had shaken and "sobered him up" as he himself would have said—-he recalled, I say, that after stabbing his sister, the knife fell from his hand and lay on the floor. This happened perhaps because guilt and fear overcame him that moment-- for his attack on his sister was really unpremeditated. When the idea came to him to flee, and he had run to open the trap, having realized by then that the police were mounting the stairs, he had no more time to return to that place by the door, bend down and retrieve his knife. Just before he jumped, he shouted to his sister: ter 10v wit hers Sank to s: thong thing about Came, n°iSiL wrapDe 113 "The 'shade,' stupid!... Make sure you hide that 'shade!'" He did not want the police to hear the word "blade." At that terrible instant, criminal and guilty, he appealed to his sister's loving instincts, sure she would save him. The knife would be covered with blood and his pursuers would see it. By urging her to hide it, he hoped to conceal his crime. Indeed, though blood was already running from her wound, Amersa, realizing they would by all means force in the old light door with its rusted bolt and latch, near faint, she bent over and picked up the knife. Then she dragged herself to a corner by a small pile of pillows, bedding and folded sheets. She hid the bloodstained knife under that pile of linen, wrapped herself in an old but clean patched quilt and sat on the low heap which sank even lower. Bringing her right hand under her armpit, she tried to stop the bleeding. Somehow she was unafraid when she saw the blood, though it was the first time such a thing had happened to her. Every- thing seemed as in a dream. She just gritted her teeth and wondered about not feeling pain. A few seconds later, however, sharp pains came. At that moment the door was forced in. One of the policemen noisily burst into the room. Amersa did not raise her head, just remained stooped over, wrapped-in the quilt up to her ears. "Where is that bully?" cried the officer menacingly. Amersa did not answer. the t winté the c an ho E. Ore k 114 The officer, who had no idea of Menace's escape or that his comrade had tumbled and fallen, perhaps because it occurred the moment he was banging in the door and the noise had deafened him to the other, searched the place where Amersa was, than ran into the winter room, then into the small adjoining one. He found no one. Only the open hatch. A moment later his subordinate appeared. "Did he get away?" "Through the trap—door, below..." "And you let him get away?..." You didn't catch him?" "I was knocked for a ghoul!... Ah! What speed... Seven miles an hour!..." "Ach!" said the first policeman, curving the forefinger of his right hand and bringing it to his mouth as if to bite it after angrily shaking his head. "They ought to demote us!" The second policeman, wishing to appear tough, addressed the young girl: "Where'd your brother head for, miss?" he said. Amersa didn't answer. But deep down she would probably murmur ironically to herself through her frightful pain, "You know." "Why are you sitting there like that, sister?" said the first more kindly. "Did he hurt you in any way?" Amersa shook her head. "What did he want with you?... Did he try to stab you?" "Why did you scream?" added the second. sick faint OVEr. the a Capa 115 Amersa answered the first policeman's question. "No!" "Tell the truth, did he knife you?" the man insisted. Amersa, in a natural voice, said: "My brother, stab me!" "Why are you sitting like that, what's the matter? Are you sick?" "I've got fever!" It never dawned on Amersa that the floor and the pile of straw might be bloodstained. But the sun had already set and shadow had filled the house. Besides the place where the stained knife had fallen, blood spots were in the shadows behind the door which was two- thirds open to the wall. So the two men never noticed them. "Why did you scream?" insisted the first policeman. ' said Amersa. "I felt pain and dizziness,‘ And at that moment, as if giving proof to her words, a real faint came over her. She gaSped, "Ohh!," gritted her teeth and bent over. The two officers were touched, looked at her and the first said: "Where could her mother be?" As if obeying a command, Frangoyannou arrived on the run. "There, she's the old woman whose son dragged her into the street by the hair!" said the second policeman. Then he added: "Say, my good woman, where's that son of yours?" Without responding, Frangoyannou rushed to Amersa's side. She was a capable doctor and able to care for her daughter. And Uni - CT '—I 0) ‘1) U) r J Ofte 116 All these memories often came to Amersa, especially during the long hours of the night or twilight or dawn, whenever sleep eluded her in the house, next to her sleeping sister, little Krinyo, while their mother was away those hours keeping vigil many a night now in the room of the mother in childbed at the house of the older daughter. And when she returned home after the night's adventure which she had undertaken, "clairvoyant" as she was, following that dream, she saw in the dim light of the candle which flickered before the small, old, blackened icon of the Virgin, that her little sister, Krinyo, was fast asleep and had not stirred from her place. Only as Amersa entered did Krinyo, perhaps hearing a faint noise in her sleep, move peacefully, sigh, turn over, but otherwise not awake. "Clairvoyant!" Really. The word her mother had so recently used came back to her indeed the moment when, with the third crowing of the cock, she entered the house near her little sleeping sister. But was she truly "clairvoyant"? She whose dreams, visions and hallucinations often came to mean or prophesy something or leave a strange impression. And those falsehoods of hers, all she told, involuntarily came true for her. Like the time after being stabbed by her brother when she answered the policeman's question saying: "I feel pain and dizziness." And with these words was immediately overcome by a real faint, as if some higher deity wished to cover her lie. Amersa lay down again beside her sister but did not sleep. Memories continued to flood her mind though less tyrannically and less somberly than those of her mother. And during those long hours she never now ir the fi little sedita Delhar the Eat not pa] World 1 without Vide dc Eugt pr Inn to Dr PTOV blouSeS She mUs SOrt Of Other 3; demandir so mUeh, SlandEr‘ 117 never ceased reflecting on the destiny of her brother, Menace, who was now in the Halcis prison. After Amersa left, Frangoyannou, huddled up in a corner between the fireplace and the cradle, having lost her sleep once again, little by little picked up the thread of her bitter, distant, wandering meditations. Well when the two older boys emigrated to America and Delharo grew up, it became the mother's responsibility to provide for ' was the marriage of her daughters since the old man, "Calculation,' not particularly distinguished for his industriousness. Well, all the world knows what it means to be both mother and father to daughters without even being a widow. She herself must marry them off and pro- vide dowry, arrange the match and negotiate the terms. Like a man, she must provide a house, vineyard, field and olive grove; borrow money, run to the notary, settle the mortgage. Like a woman, she must create or provide dowry, that is to say, supply the sheets, embroidered blouses, and silk dresses with gold-brocade hems. As a matchmaker she must search for a groom, pursue, net and capture him. And what sort of groom! One like Constandis who is snoring now in the next room on the other side of the wall-—beardless, useless, worthless. Also capricious, demanding, stubborn; today demanding this, tomorrow that; one day asking so much, the next more. Then others "get to him" through rumor, gossip, slander-—out of self-interest or envy--so he changes his mind. But daugh: the {15 nights Suffer endure hEr'). Want S she 8a well! and St fraCti. is it I Come "There live 118 after the engagement he moves in with his in-laws to "put one in the slips" prematurely; afterwards acts like nothing happened. Only after so much trouble, so many headaches, barely, after so long a time, was this groom finally persuaded to marry her. Then the bride puts on airs, decks herself out in finery--the fruit of so much sacrifice and economizing-~trying desperately to show the trim waistline of her former self. And three months after the wedding she gives birth to a daughter-—three years later a son--two years later another daughter-- the new-born for whom the old grandmother was keeping vigil so many nights now. And for all these daughters their mother had worked and suffered so much--so much more-~30 much more than her mother had endured for her. Poor Amersa, the tomboy, remained unmarried (God bless her!). She knew better. Indeed, she was sensible. Why would she want so many burdens? Neither was she jealous! Jealous of what? She saw her older sister and pitied her-—wept for her. As for little Krinyo, if only God will enlighten her as well! Whatever she does, her mother has no intention-~her strength and stamina exhausted-~of marrying her off and suffering even a fraction of what she suffered for her older sister. But I ask you, is it really necessary for so many girls to be born? And if they come, is it worth raising them? "There is no," said Frangoyannou, "There is no Charon, there are no rocks? It's better if they don't live to grow up. I hear you, neighbor!" comfort, priests sionate bear the She had words he breasts hearegt the WOEE And aga: SO Earlj the fie: 119 It was for this much-suffering woman a great and sacred comfort, to follow when it chanced, a small funeral procession of priests preceding the Cross. To hold in her arms herself, compas- sionate and merciful as she was, the small cradle-like casket and bear the daughter of a neighbor or distant relative to the grave. She had difficulty catching the murmurings of the priest chewing his words between his teeth. "Naught is more pitiable than a father, naught more wretched than a mother..." Oft do they beat their breasts before the grave and say: "0 my son, and sweetest child, hearest thou not what thy mother criest unto thee? Behold, also, the womb that bare thee. Why speakest thou not with us. Alleluia!" And again: "Who would not wail, my child, beholding thy rosy face so early faded, which before was beautiful as the crimson lily of the field?" But what great delight when the small funeral procession, after ten minutes' march arrived at the Cemetery. Beautiful country- side, perpetual spring, sea of green, wildflowers, fragrant garden. Behold the park of the dead! Oh! Paradise even of this world, opening its gates to receive the small innocent creature whose good fortune was to liberate its parents from so much torment. Rejoice small angels who flutter round and round with white-gold wings, and you, souls of Saints, Welcome it! When Hadula would return for the evening "consolation" at the house of mourning--not a word of sympathy could she find to say for she was joyful at the good fortune of the innocent child and its parents. The sorrow was joy, death was life, all was otherwise. is othe oisfort fortunes Charlaté SUSPECt as Frang will sat for m? s beating the afige daughter 31:31]}: Del have Sev and rare E premature rarél? me 120 Ah! Behold... Nothing is exactly as it appears; everything is otherwise, even opposite. If sorrow is joy, and death is life and resurrection, then misfortune is good fortune and sickness is health. These plagues which seem so dreadful, that prematurely mow down infants--smallpox, scarlet fever, diptheria and others--are they not blessings, strokes of small angels' wings who glory in heaven as they receive the souls of the young? And we, in our blindness, interpret these as mis- fortunes, as plagues, as evils. And distraught parents lose their wits, and pay dearly for Charlatans and quack medicines to save their children. They do not suspect that "save" really means "lose" the child. For Christ said, as Frangoyannou understood her confessor explain, "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it! But whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it." Must we not then, if men were not so blind, try to aid the beating wings of angels than seek to drive them away? But behold, the angels are impartial, grant no pardon, take both sons and daughters to Paradise without distinction. Especially sons—-how many beloved and only sons!—-die before their time. The daughters have seven lives, the old woman mused. They do not sicken easily and rarely die. As good Christians then, should we not aid in the work of angels? Oh, how many boys and genteel girls are seized prematurely. Then again, little rich girls die more easily—-though rarely more than boys——than the countless daughters of the poor. , The girl multiply more 008 gTOWUUD.' It final. prefOund 'OUgh fl' 11'] \7 f'. Ingers _ Dl‘,‘ ' 121 The girls of this class have the seven lives! Seems as though they multiply on purpose to torment their parents here on earth. Ah! the more one ponders! the more one "loses one's reason." At that moment, the daughter began coughing and whimpering. The old woman, enervated by all these thoughts, and innundated by waves of memory, suddenly felt dizzy, overcome by the turmoil and tempest of her existence. She slowly sank into a drowsy, uncontrollable desire for sleep. The infant coughed, cried and constantly fussed "like a grownup." Her grandmother stirred, turned, and lost her sleep again. Its mother slept soundly, unaware of any coughing or crying. The old woman opened stern eyes and gestured impatiently, threateningly. "Eh! Will you shut up?" she said. Frangoyannou's mind, indeed, began to "lose its reason." It finally became irrational. It was expected, after laboring on such profound questions. She leaned over the crib. Forced two long, rough fingers into the infant's mouth to "shut it up." She knew very small infants do not usually suffocate. But she was by now irrational--had no real notion what she was doing nor why. She continued the choking for some time; then took her fingers out of the small mouth which had stopped breathing, seized the baby's neck and squeezed it for a few seconds. 122 That was all. Frangoyannou at that moment did not recall Amersa's dream which her daughter had told to her only an hour before, between the second and third crowing of the cock! She had "lost her reason!" VI Unable to fall asleep again after returning from her sister's house, Amersa, wide awake beside her little sister, began again and for a long while to dwell upon her brother, that poor unhappy criminal. Since the time he jumped through the trap-door and fled, she never saw him again. The police searched many days but he had vanished. Immediately following Amersa's questioning by the police, Frangoyannou arrived at the house and discovered her daughter wrapped in the quilt, head down, pale after fainting from loss of blood. To the question posed by the first officer whom Menace had tripped, "Old lady, where is that son of yours?," Frangoyannou did not respond. But the other one who appeared more humane, said in a calm voice: "Look, Madame. What's the matter with your daughter? She says she's sick." 1 "She i§_sick! How not to be!’ said Frangoyannou with the ready answer. "She's in shock over the antics of that clever son of mine... Look my dears!... if you catch up with him, don't harm him..." gm ..lldsug Wild 123 "Did you see him run off? Which way?" "I saw him from a distance!... Along by the Wells... past the Threshing Floor." Frangoyannou told a double lie. She had not seen Menace but was sure he had fled in the opposite direction from what she said toward Kotronia, eastward above the house where as a child he used to chase owls. The two men took off on the run. One of them threw a last suspicious glance back at the half-open door. Hadula shut the door. Then she Opened the window. "He stabbed me, Mana!" sighed Amersa in pain as the current of air flowing through the open window revived her from her faint. Throwing off the quilt, blood appeared on the blouse she was wearing over her undershirt. "Oh! Ach! The murderer!..." "Heaven and Earth punish him'" cursed the mother, seeing the blood. Then she began to examine her daughter, to try to stop the bleeding and bind the wound. Pulling on the sleeve, Frangoyannou removed the blouse. Amersa's right arm was firm and taut though lean and pale. The wound was only superficial, but the bleeding was difficult to control. Hadula employed whatever techniques she knew and would have used a tourniquet had she had one. She bandaged the wound and soon the bleeding stopped. Amersa had been somewhat weakened, but she was basically strong and unafraid. Indeed, after a few days of her mother's care, the injury healed. 124 Frangoyannou would never have called the doctor. She did not want it known that her son had stabbed his sister. To all the inquisitive neighbors whoever asked, she denied--sometimes feigning indignation, sometimes forcing a laugh—-that Menace had injured her daughter. What interested her above all was to learn if Mihalis had escaped from the hands of the police, and, if so, may he go with God's grace. Indeed, a few days later it was learned that her son had secretly embarked at night on a ship, as a sailor and fled the island. The secretary of the Port Authority was a kind and obliging man and signed him on as a seaman without hesitation. At that time, Menace was almost twenty; Amersa was just seventeen. Time passed before the family had any news of the fugitive. Finally, more than a year later, rumor circulated that Moron had committed murder on board his ship. When asked, his sisters told everyone they knew nothing about it, and deep in their hearts prayed that the rumors were false. But the mother inwardly believed the news was true. A few days later, a letter arrived postmarked "Halcis." Mihalis was writing from the prison of that town. Reversing the order of events, he first related in tragic terms his pains and miseries in the dungeon of the Venetian fortress. Then, contrite of heart, but in ambiguous terms, making it necessary to read between the lines, he confessed that perhaps he really had murdered the man, '1 O O O O C C 0 old Portaitis, the ship's boatswain, but Without realizing it or 'W' " UN '9’ 125 meaning to. (Truly, he had no intention of killing him.) His adversary incited it, he himself was not at fault, the killing was the result of an argument. He had "lost his head." It had even been proven that the knife belonged to the "victim." Perhaps he had drawn the knife (he couldn't remember exactly) from his opponent's belt, but he believed he had wrangled it out of his hand. Then he again returned to his miseries and all he had suffered these two months in prison. Following, he appealed to his mother's affection and begged her to—-"go without fail--and find " the murdered man's widow, and his daughter, and Madame Portaitina, plead in terms, "persuade them no matter what" to sue for his acquittal. "Go, Mana, take the boat over to Platana, beg Portaitina as well as her daughter, Karikleia, bring them around to beg for my acquittal and I'll become one of the family, and marry Karikleia without dowry, and we'll all be happy and love each other... And they'll see how much I'll love Karikleia, and how good I'll take care of my mother-in—law, I'll work like a slave to support them, make them comfortable, because I'm capable and can make money..." Ending, the murderer returned for the third time to his miseries and promised, if he should get out of prison, to bring many beautiful jewels and things for his two sisters' dowries, as well as dolls and toys for Delharo's little girls. Well, it is not surprising that Frangoyannou did not hesitate. She made a small loan, pawned all her silver, took the boat over to the 126 opposite island, to the village of Platana in search of Portaitina. But what is surprising was her pathetic eloquence, her feminine wiles, the thousand falsehoods-~Frangoyannou was then fifty-five, but a robust woman and energetic——with which she was able to persuade the old woman, widow of the murdered man. (Note that mother and daughter even gave hospitality to the mother of the murderer) to persuade her, I say, to pay travel expenses and leave together for Halcis, in order to obtain through prosecutor, judge and jury the liberty or the acquittal of the accused. As for the daughter, "Karikleia," she declared she would not seek vengeance since "father will never return," but would not wish his murderer for a husband: remaining unwed forever was preferable. The two old women set out together and stayed three months in Halcis in a dingy Turkish house—~near the Jewish quarter beside the High Portal of the fortress. Daily, Hadula walked to the prison during those early hours when the prisoners were let out, accompanied usually by Portaitina, who sait waiting opposite the prison, not wishingto see the murderer face to face. Passing before the large, inelegant, old church of St. Paraskevi, they would crossthemselves, and then the mother would carry biscuits, figs, sardines and tobacco for his pipe to the accused. And well—hidden inside the deep pockets of her skirt was a small flask of rum or raki, additional solace for the prisoner. But two or three times a week they exited through the High Portal of the fortress and saw suspended there, by the dark gate, the leg of the "Greek Giant" and his "tsarouhi"--boot—slipper with a pom-pom-- 127 monstrous in size, which after returning home--God willing--they would describe for their grandchildren. Then they would walk through the Souvala quarter or by St. Demetrios Church and visit the public prosecutor, who would dismiss them through his Secretary; or they called on the judges, who occasionally admitted them for amusement. Finally, when the day of the trial was set, they sought ways of approaching the jurors some of whom had come from mountain villages wearing foustanellas, or from the islands or sea shores wearing knickers. Frangoyannou promised each all sorts of gifts and would have given them had she had them: sweet wines, quality oil-~pure gold--1obster tails, mullet paste, botargo, dried octopus, choice figs and anything else her island could produce. To one of the jurors, a jaundiced, bronchial—looking man, who seemed to be suffering, she promised a cure through a preparation she knew. But none of this proved useful, and the murderer was con- demned to twenty years in prison. All the projects came to grief, including the matrimonial alliance between the mother of the murderer and the widow of the victim. Now it became necessary for them to return home, but the little money they had was gone as well as all which Amersa had sent from domestic work and weaving. Frangoyannou inquired of every ship she saw readying to sail for the Gulf of Maliakos or Istiaia, to take Portaitina, at least, who was older and less able. For herself, she had her plans. When she realized the agents required in addition to the fare, that passengers bring their own food and that, even if taken 128 aboard, she would have had to disembark at Stylida or Orei and find another ship there-—so she explained her plan to Portai'tina. "I," she said, "can make it overland on foot from here to St. Anna--they say it's a two—day journey. There we'll find the mail- boat and Captain Petserelos, the postman, who will recognize us and take us on. I'll make expenses on the way collecting herbs, dandelions and wild vegetables, and any poor soul who comes along with a sick child or husband, I'll make cures to obligate them. .. Can you make it? Have you the strength?" "What can I do? I can, I can't... It's better to stay together as we came." 80 they started out. Hadula did as she had said, but the going was slowed by heavy-footed Portai'tina. But she was more successful than she had hoped. When, a week later she arrived in her Village, she had things left over from her enterprises. For services rendered, she brought home a sack of wheat, nearly an oke of cheese, two hens, a woolen blanket someone had given her as a gift, and some drachmas cash. Besides these, she comfortably paid Portai’tina's passage all the way to her own door. All these things Amersa remembered well, for her mother retold the story of her journey often. Now, twelve years had passed. Her brother was still in prison, her father had died some time ago; Statharos and Yalis never returned from America, little Yorghakis had also left for distant shores, Krinyo had grown up, Delharo had given birth to another daughter, and she, Amersa, remained an old maid. 129 VII Extreme stillness and silence enveloped the dark room after the last cough and cry of the daughter was so suddenly interrupted. Frangoyannou had lowered her head, held her forehead in her hands, and had ceased to think. She felt she no longer existed. Not even her breathing was audible. Every sound had ceased. No flame trembled in the hearth, no murmur could be heard, and the half-burnt wick of the oil lamp glimmered sadly. The small candle before the icons had long since gone out and the features of the saints could no longer be distinguished. Suddenly the woman in childbed roused herself with a start, breaking the deep silence. "What is it, Mana?" she said. Her mother, grim, trance—like, stared at the flickering lamp. "What is it!" Nothing. You woke up?" "It seemed to me you said something... that you called me, in my sleep." "Me? . . . No. You' re imagining things." "What time can it be Mana?" "What time?... Don't know?... The cock has crowed over and over again." "You didn't sleep, Mother?" "I've had my fill of sleep... like a log," said Frangoyannou, who had not Shut an eye. "It'll soon be light." 130 Iheumther in childbed yawned and made the sign of the cross cwerhernmufln At the same time she looked up at the small icon stand opposite. "Duacandle has gone out, Mana, please light it." ' said the old woman, "I was sound "Dnhfit notice, daughter,’ asleep." "Amithe child is sleeping soundly, I see. How did that happen?" 1 "She's quiet now too,' said the old woman. " said the mother. "She's really started "My breasts hurt, to suck lately. I wish she were awake to nurse." "Eh!, never mind... We'll find another baby," said the old woman. "What did you say, Mana?" The old woman did not answer. She wanted to say something. Did not know what to say. "Would you go to the trouble to light the candle, Mana." "If you wish, get up yourself and light it, I don't have hands..." "hfluat!" "My hand feels numb." "Cknne now, Mana, you know I'm not supposed to light the candle until I've been blessed." Jiist: as she was saying "my hand feels numb" the old woman recalled Amersa' 3 dream. 131 Unable to hold herself, she stifled a deep sob under her breath. "What is the matter, Mother?" The mother in childbed jumped off her low bed. "The baby's not well?" Screams and sobs and crying followed. The mother found her daughter dead in its crib. Sound asleep on the other side of the partition, Constandis, who had slept well, woke up from the noise. "What's going on?" he shouted, rubbing his eyes. He yawned, stretched, jumped up and ran to the door of the room. 1 "Hey. What are you people doing?... You'll wake up the neighbors... Can't anybody get a little sleep, at least, around here without all this commotion?" No one paid any attention to Constandis' protests. His wife was bent over the cradle, sobbing. His mother-in-law remained seated with folded hands, face enigmatic, jaw set, and expressionless. After her first involuntary sob, she uttered not a sound. "What!... the child died?... "Hey!..." cried Constandis, his mouth gaping. Then he added: "That's why I had such a crazy dream, devil!..." Delharo, lifting her head a moment from the cradle, con- tinuing to sob, said: 132 "Mana, would you get me her little things, to change her... Where is Amersa?" Frangoyannou did not answer. "Where is Amersa, Mana?" Delharo repeated, shaking her mother's arm. Suddenly emerging from her stupor, Frangoyannou shuddered as if pricked by a thorn. "Amersa?... Where is she?... At home!" she answered. 1 "Wasn't she here? I thought I heard her in my sleep,' said the mother. ' said the old woman, eyeing "Let him go over and call her,‘ her son—in-law. "Constandis, will you go and call Amersa," Delharo said to her husband. "I'll go. Imagine that!... Oh! What a pity! Devil: good thing we baptised her at least." Dandis crawled around on the floor of the narrow hallway in the dark groping to find his old shoes. Old pairs jostled noisily against the wood floor. "Where's my old shoes," he said. Finally he put on a worn pair of woman's shoes he found, which only covered his toes and part of his foot, leaving his heels exposed. More noise he made trying to open the door, finding neither latch nor bolt in the darkness. Once having opened the door, he suddenly came back inside. 133 "Hey, Delharo," he said, "Should I only tell Amersa to come, or bring Krinyo as well? What do you think, mother-in-law?" "Go ahead now, stOp your banter,‘ she said. "Whoever comes, comes!" Delharo, sobbing softly leaned over the crib. Dandis before leaving, threw a last glance at the cradle and his wife. "Oh! What a pity, devil! he said... What dreams I saw!... And he left on the run. VIII One morning during Holy Week, Frangoyannou set out all alone in the country toward the stream of Mamou. She wanted to visit the small olive grove which as a gift was left to her by a somewhat wealthy man she had worked for who died leaving no inheritors. Half the grove she had given to Delharo as dowry, and the other half she retained herself. Some weeks had passed since the events we have recounted. Nothing out of the ordinary had been said concerning the death of Delharo Trachilaina's baby daughter who had been buried that same day. If the mother of the infant noticed small black marks on the baby's neck, she would never have uttered a word, or otherwise believed it was her mother's crime. It was thought the child died of whooping cough. The only doctor, who was for years in the village, kind Vavaros V., chanced to be away. Cholera had apparently broken out 134 again in Egypt and the Ministry of the Interior usually chose him to direct the quarantine station on Delos. In his place the government had sent a temporary health officer, Mr. M., who had not yet arrived. In the meantime there was a former medical student residing on the island. Called by the local police to verify the death, he superficially examined the face of the infant, complaining about not having been called while it was still alive. He issued a "burial certificate," writing "death by spasmodic coughing." From that day, old Hadula lived a guilt-ridden, anxious life, and outwardly it seemed she had ashes on her silver-grey hair, that she carried her head slightly bent and stiff, and that she wore her long black shawl like a cowl of repentance. With the coming of Lent she often went to church, made numerous and deep genuflexions, planned confession, but always postponed it. Giving up olive oil for Lent, she ate dry food five days of the week and fasted three during the first and middle weeks. Ashamed before Delharo, she avoided her eyes. Well, the morning of that day during Holy Week, Frangoyannou arrived very early at the peak of the high rocky hill west of the village and from there, melancholic falls the gaze on the small cemetery Spread out below, upon the high, sea—battered strip of land, ‘with white tombstones, and directly leaves, seeking cheerfulness and life in the blue waves, in the wide triple port and in the verdant charndng, islands fencing it from the south and east. On this peak, standing solitary, distant, like a beacon glittering in the sunlight 135 is the chapel of Saint Anthony. Frangoyannou passed before it making the sign of the Cross, and though she intended to enter, she hesitated at the last moment and continued on her way. "I'm unworthy," she thought to herself, "to enter a chapel where so often masses are held. I'd better go to the chapel of St. John the Hidden." Soon she arrived at the olive grove and inspected each tree one by one. Already the middle of April, Easter had come late and she was anxious to see if they had borne fruit. Silently she prayed to Christ "to provide the olive oil which would ease the poverty." For two years, they had not borne olives, indeed, an insidious disease had ruined the crop and blackened the branches of the trees. After she remained for a time in the olive grove, she started on her way, often looking back as if bidding the trees goodbye, and continued on. She reached the stream below, and began the upward climb as was her custom. With a basket under her left arm, a small knife in her right hand, she bent down everywhere, in all the familiar places, searching for dandelion, thistle, cicely and anise. On the Saturday of St. Lazarus she would bake a cake, the pétga, for herself and her daughters, sharing it with neighbors as well, having nothing to lose by it. Besides these wild plants which she knew so well and collected, Hadula recognized other herbs also, useful remedies for the sick: clover, the snakeweed, and the wild onion among the arbutus and ferns and beside the roots of wild trees, and mushrooms, thorns and nettles, as well as maidenhair in small ravine cascades——said to remedy the :fevers following childbirth. 136 Having collected enough herbs, she tied the medicinal kinds in a separate kerchief and placed them inside her basket. Sunset was approaching and the sun dipped behind the mountain top. Deep shadow filled the ravine and the sound of her every step resonated ominously deep within her soul. The old woman climbed higher, toward the stream's steep ridge. Below lay the deep gorge of the river, the Aheila current, etching its way through the deep valley, murmuring peacefully, appearing still and stagnant yet eternally moving under the long flowing arms of the platane trees, among the moss, the brush and fern, babbling mysteriously, embracing tree trunks, meandering snakelike the length of the valley, greenish in the reflection of the foliage, caressing and eroding rocks and roots, murmuring, limpid, teeming with tiny crabs which race for cover in the turbid sand whenever a young shepherd, leaving his few lambs to pasture on fresh grasses, comes leaning into the stream, overturning rocks to ensnare them. The ‘warblings, the incessant chirping of blackbirds echoes harmoniously in the forest surrounding all the western slope, and glides up to the sunmfit of Anargyros until the Eaglenest above-~where it is said one sea-eagle nested for three generations of men and at the end left twithout leaving eagle-fledgings. In its abandoned nest could be found run entire museum of gigantic bones of sea serpents, seals, sharks and other ocean beasts upon which this great and powerful sea bird of 'bluish-curved beak and magnificent grey plumage banqueted. High above the river on a ridge formed by two mountains lnatween the fields of Konomos and Minor-Anargyros, the solitary 137 monastery of St. John the Hidden stands in ancient ruins. Truly hidden, it lies behind a small col, concealed by the two mountains and thick, overgrown brush. Approached from the north, from the Aheila current as Frangoyannou now did, or from the south, from the place called the fields of Konomos; or even if one were to walk close to the sacred place, it was impossible to suspect its presence if one did not know it well, as did Frangoyannou. The surrounding wall and the few monk cells had fallen in ruins long ago. The small chapel, deserted and no longer used, was still standing. The nave remained covered but in the sanctuary, the roof had caved in on the north side, strewing the altar with tile and debris. The wooden iconostase, once sculptured and gilded, now lay shattered and unrecognizable, the icons gone. The few frescoes had been corroded by the humidity and the faces of the saints could no longer be distinguished. Only to the right of the chorus, a fresco of John the Baptist witnessing the coming of Christ was still intact: "Behold, the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." The face and hand of the Baptist, outstretched and pointing, could be dis— tinguished well enough. The face of the Savior showed very faint on the damp wall. Saint John the Hidden was the name invoked since time immemorial by those who carried a "secret torment, or a private sin. Old Hadula was familiar with this belief or custom, and that is why she thought about coming now to the old abandoned sanctuary to offer 138 up her prayers. She preferred the deserted chapel because in the parish church where she attended during Lent, she only dared enter the narthex, behind the bolted door of the woman's entrance-~just in case it became necessary to flee before they ejected her! She was ruot: SC) nnich afraid of being chased by Papanicholas, the severe and ascetic curate, or by Mr. Demetros, the churchwarden, who always grumbled, and was harsh on the women because instead of the woman's loge they continually sought the small enclosed stalls at the north- xnest: